


Breathing With the Aid of Denial

by frk_werewolf (wolfelements)



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Big Brother Gerard, Dark/Light AU, Energy Powers, Healer Mikey, M/M, Powerhouse Spencer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-06-07 02:57:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6782551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfelements/pseuds/frk_werewolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He should be happy. He was a light sider, which meant an automatic position in the government and control over the grayscales and dark siders of the city. Still, somedays Ryan wished things could go back to normal. Whatever normal meant in the world he lived in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breathing With the Aid of Denial

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally aconcept I creation for a novel, but I wanted to play in the universe to ensure it actually worked. It does, as shown by Livejournal readers, but I still need tweaking. But I feel this should be out there in case I never make that novel.

The jolt, the impact, of the ground with each step as he ran sent a wave of pain up his injured leg. He could almost smell the blood trailing behind him, a marker for those hunting. Sucking in a harsh breath, his hand reached out, touching the rough brick, as he followed the wall around the corner. He spotted the small alcove and darted for it, spine curving and body aching as he squeezed into the small space.

He fisted his hands, holding them to his chest as he gasped for air. Eyes wide, he waited, trying to strain his ears to hear the telltale sound of footsteps. A flicker of light caught his attention and he gulped, trying to push farther back into the safe darkness, which encircled him in a protective cocoon. 

"I don't think he came this way," a voice commented.

"He's here," another replied.

Gerard fought down a shudder and twisted his neck around, peeking out of the alcove to see a tall blonde glancing down at his watch. The other, tattooed and be speckled, sighed. "We can't let him get away again."

Bob stared down at the light illuminating the alleyway, which originated from his hand. "He's just a stray, Andy. Let the little dark sider flee. I don't know about you, but I'd like to get some sleep tonight." Bob's hand flexed and the light flickering across the alleyway moved in tune with it. The ball of yellow-white light hovering over Bob's palm threatened to go out, but didn't. "He'll be back. He always is."

"When we return to base, his lack of presence will be on your head," Andy said without much venom, scanning the area one more time before turning on his heel and stalking past Bob, who seemed to tower over him as he made to follow.

Gerard slumped back into the alcove, releasing a rush of air from his lungs, air that he hadn't realized he was holding. He clenched his eyes closed and took a moment to calm himself. He pushed images of the past two days out of his mind, ignoring the desperate urge to follow Bob and Andy back to their stronghold in some hope of finding his brother--a search he had conducted repeatedly in the last few months. Slowly he uncurled his hands, wiggling cramped fingers before looking down at his leg.

His pant leg was soaked with wet blood, stiffening in the night air as it threatened to dry. Gerard leaned closer, peeling back the cut in his pant leg to inspect the actual wound. His eyes narrowed as he spotted the slightest trace of light energy left in the gash, eating away at his skin and muscle. That explained why it was still bleeding.

"Fuck," he hissed, slouching back. He couldn't heal it; he'd never been very good at utilizing energy for healing purposes, which was why light energy tended to hurt him more than most. He grabbed his shirt, ripping a strip off of it. The shirt had already been beat up in his confinement the past day when the light siders had caught him snooping around their complex. So it didn't bother him to mutilate the shirt even further. He wrapped it tightly around his leg, knotting it over the wound.

Tiredness washed over him and he curled up as small as he could. He would wait and hopefully have the energy to make it home after a few hours of sleep. 

*

"Need some help?" Jon asked, poking his head around the door. 

"Yes," Spencer hissed, sweat beading across his forehead as he focused on the man lying on the table before him. Gerard had been stripped down and placed in a pair of shorts, not that he was awake to realize this. Spencer stood next to his injured leg, hands hovering above the wound, palms overlapping. Tendrils of dark energy were shooting out of Spencer's palm, swirling in the air before diving into the ripped open flesh of Gerard's leg.

Jon rushed over, stepped up behind Spencer and wrapped his arms around Spencer in what could be an embrace. Jon's hands rested at Spencer's wrists. The dark energy surged out of Spencer's palms, suddenly working faster as it knitted and healed Gerard's leg. Strands of energy could be seen wrapping up Gerard's leg, absorbing into his body to rejuvenate the rest of him. Finally, Spencer pulled back, slumping into Jon's hold.

"God damn it," Spencer moaned painfully. "We need Mikey back. Fuck, I haven't the power to heal like he does. Gerard's my eighth patient this morning."

"Good thing I came along then, eh?" Jon asked, resting his chin on Spencer's shoulder. He nuzzled at Spencer's jaw, grinning when Spencer groaned. Energy work had always made Spencer extra sensitive to touch. "And you're good, Spencer. Really good. You just need to stop blocking yourself."

"I need Mikey back so he can finish my training," Spencer muttered, forcing himself to his full stature and pushing Jon away. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"Here to interrogate your prisoner, sir," Jon said teasingly. 

"Please be joking," Gerard croaked from the table.

"Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty!" Jon said cheerfully, bounding over to Gerard's side. Gerard glared up at him. "I'm here to take your report on the current status of the light sider party. Any new information that you may have found could be helpful. You know the drill."

"They're the same as always. They control the government, while us dark siders are left to rot underneath the city," Gerard growled, pushing himself into a sitting position. He looked down at his leg. "I found out why they're kidnapping dark siders, though."

"You mean aside from turning them into slaves?" Spencer asked, bitterly.

"They're doing experiments," Gerard said. "I think they're trying to find a way to use our power for themselves. Mikey..."

A silence coated the room. Spencer shifted nervously. It was no secret that Mikey was the strongest healer of their generation, which was unusual for a dark sider. To have that kind of power in the hands of the light siders, if they ever learned to utilize it, would be devastating. It would throw off the balance of power, which was already straining.

"What about the powerhouses?" Jon asked.

"A lot of new recruits have been added," Gerard said. "I didn't get many names. Those I got I'll have the files on by the end of the day. I'll get Frank on it."

"Yeah, you definitely need to go see him," Spencer said, turning to grab a washcloth out of a nearby cabinet. "He hasn't slept since you left."

"I told him--" Gerard began.

"He's your best friend," Spencer interrupted, wetting the cloth and wiping at his sweat covered face. "You can't expect him to think rationally about that. I wouldn't. If I had my best friend here."

Jon reached out, fingers trailing down Spencer's spine lightly. Spencer made a sound deep in his throat, full of want and need. Gerard cleared his throat. Spencer knew he should feel embarrassed, but he had healed Gerard often enough that the man knew how Spencer reacted to energy work. His body, once it began, didn't want to stop using it. So it transformed it into something sexual and volatile.

"I'll leave you two alone," Gerard said.

Spencer made a sound of acknowledgement, seeing Gerard leave out of the corner of his eye as Jon pushed him against the wall. Jon's hands slipped underneath his shirt finally skin touching skin, and he was already panting, whimpering under his breath. Jon kissed the corner of his mouth. "Shhh. Let me take care of you."

*

The hallway was too bright. Ryan blinked and tried to focus on the clipboard in front of him, but the dark lettering appeared to bleed in response to the light. Two years of living with the light siders and Ryan still wasn't used to the bright environment.

"Hey, you okay?" Patrick asked, handing him a few more papers to be added to the clipboard. Ryan shuffled through them, putting them in correct order: statistics, health, and experimental results. Patrick huffed a breath and opened a nearby door as they passed it. "Hey, Wentz! We're heading to room 93. Want to come?"

"Can't," Pete replied. "I've got signals of a light sider manifesting in the grayscale living space. Time to save another life. Eh, Ross?"

"Yeah." Ryan didn't meet Pete's eyes.

"You mean you're back on duty?" Patrick asked, shocked. "I thought they'd given up on you. Two years of being bumped down to paperwork doesn't really sound hopeful."

"Well, obviously you were wrong," Pete beamed, not effected by Patrick's disbelief. "Besides, I made sure to check the dark sider signals this time to ensure that a dark sider wasn't be manifesting in the same area. It's not my fault Ross' friend tried to attack me."

Ryan opened his mouth to protest, to say that Spencer hadn't attacked him. Spencer had been scared, terrified of the new power that had suddenly erupted in both of them overnight. Ryan's best friend had been trying to keep them together. And now they weren't. Ryan didn't know where Spencer was, or even if he was alive. 

But he didn't blame Pete for that. Pete was a good man, if overzealous about his job. 

Mouth closed, Ryan returned his gaze to the clipboard. He should be happy. He was a light sider, which meant an automatic position in the government and control over the grayscales and dark siders of the city. Still, some days Ryan wished things could go back to normal. Whatever normal meant in the world he lived in.

"Try not to get yourself killed," Patrick ordered Pete, before gently grabbing Ryan's arm. "C'mon. Let's go before he tries to talk us into joining him." Ryan allowed Patrick to guide him around the corner. "You sure you're up to this?"

"I don't have a weak stomach," Ryan replied. He wasn't entirely sure what he was about to see, the experiments done on captured dark siders were only known to the ones who worked on them, but he was pretty certain it would be gruesome. Besides, "If Brendon can handle it, I can."

"I'll keep that in mind," Patrick said with a small smile. "Read the info. We're shoving you onto a big one, so you better be prepared."

Ryan glanced down at the name on the top of the papers in his hand: Michael Way. He blinked. "Wait. This is the brother of the guy who ran off last week, isn't it? Bob and Andy weren't able to catch him."

"Odds are we'll never be able to catch Gerard," Patrick admitted, coming to a stop at the elevator. He pulled out a security badge and scanned it. The elevator opened. 

"We had him for two whole days, didn't we?" Ryan asked, scanning the pages, eyes widening at some of the readouts. 

"Gerard's a master at slipping in and out, unseen," Patrick said. "We got him, but he turned the entire thing right around on us and walked out of here. He got nearly three blocks away before anyone realized he wasn't in his cell. But not to worry. He'll be back. He always is."

"He's loyal," Ryan surmised, stepping out of the elevator with Patrick and following him down another long, brightly lit hallway. "I can understand loyalty."

*

Frank was small and compact while constantly vibrating with energy. In fact, if anything, that was Frank's gift: energy. He was a dark sider portal to all the energy a person could want. It was amazing he was able to work with computers at all. They had gone through five in the past year alone, due to when Frank's energy went into overload and no one was around for him to transfer it to.

"Who's your daddy?" Frank asked the moment Gerard entered the room. Frank was bouncing in his chair, a stack of files on one edge of his desk. He gestured at them with a flourish. "Everything you'd ever want to know about the light sider regimen, including what color underwear their fathers were wearing the day they were born."

Gerard ignored the files, grabbed Frank's chair, and spun it around until Frank was facing him. Gerard leaned in, fighting off the urge to be caught in Frank's gaze. He didn't touch Frank, knowing he would end up feeling the electrical charge of energy. He didn't need that distraction. Not yet, anyway. "A little bird told me you haven't been sleeping."

"Gee--" Frank started.

"Frank," Gerard snapped, "look at you. You look like you've been living off of pure adrenaline. Have you even been eating?"

"I had a bagel," Frank protested. He paused, before mumbling, "Two days ago."

"Frank!"

"Oh, fuck you Gerard," Frank growled. But he didn't reach up to push Gerard away. "You got to stop going to that place, Gee. I've already lost Mikey, I'm not losing you, too."

"I'm so close to getting him back," Gerard whispered. He clutched the arms of Frank's chair and sighed. After a moment he cleared his throat. "So, uh, when was the last time you did a transfer?"

"With you, five days ago," Frank said. Gerard scowled at him. "You know I don't feel comfortable giving that much power to people! I'd give it to Spencer, but I'm afraid it'd be the final thing to break down those damn walls of his. It's bad enough we have me running around being a ball of energy. And Joe wouldn't know how to handle it. Jon and Gabe are in the grayscale territories too much so it would be too dangerous. And don't get me started on the others! It's either you or Mikey and you know it. Well, guess what, Mikey's not here--"

"Alright," Gerard interrupted before Frank's rant could gain more momentum. "Let's get this over with."

"Oh, you want me bad," Frank teased, holding his hand up, fingers stretching toward the ceiling. Gerard glared at him, before reaching out and taking his hand. Their fingers interlaced and sparks of electricity caused Gerard to jerk in shock. 

No matter how many times they did this, it always felt strange and new.

Frank's eyes met his, before closing tightly in concentration. For a moment, Gerard felt nothing, merely the subtle electrical charge that always emitted from Frank's skin. Then, like a wall had been let down, a painful jolt of energy swarmed up his arm from his hand, where it connected with Frank's. Yelping, Gerard dropped to his knees, resting between Frank's outstretched legs. Frank let out a soft moan, a mix of pain and pleasure that Gerard found himself echoing.

His head dropped forward as the energy, the power, poured into him. His forehead pressed into Frank's stomach, which trembled in response. Gerard panted, dragging air into his lungs. His leg throbbed, a memory of his injury returning as the dark energy accessed his flesh. Suddenly Frank arched underneath him, back curving elegantly. Gerard could feel Frank's hardness press against his jaw, but he tried to ignore it. 

"Fuck," Gerard moaned, his own body reacting as Frank's own feelings passed through the connection. Normally Frank didn't have this much built up, not with Gerard and Mikey around. Gerard couldn't imagine what would have happened if he hadn't come back in time, what damage this would have done to the building and people within it.

Gerard's other hand came up, taking hold of Frank's hip, trying to stop Frank from thrusting his hips up again. Frank whined low in his throat. The energy transfer slowed down to a mere trickle. Gerard carefully pulled his hand from Frank's grip, feeling the power pulse through him. He would be able to ground the energy later, an ability Frank didn't have.

"Are you okay?" Gerard asked, not removing his head from Frank's stomach. 

"Yeah," Frank said, breathlessly.

Blushing, Gerard pulled away and stood. There was no hiding the fact that this had effected him as much as it effected Frank. He slowly adjusted his clothes, before finally looking down at Frank. The other man looked utterly debauched, face lightly flushed, lower lip swollen from having bit into it, and eyes half-lidded.

"That was...different," Frank said, voice rough.

"Yeah, different," Gerard said, clearing his throat. "I'm going to...uhh...go." Gerard had barely made it to the door before Frank was calling out his name. Wincing, Gerard turned to look at him. Eyebrow raised, Frank gave the files on his desk a pointed look. "Oh. Right."

*

Brendon looked up from the computer readout he had been inspecting in order to grin at Ryan, who narrowed his eyes in response. Across the room Patrick stood staring through the glass wall at the room beyond. Sighing at his failed attempt to cheer up the room, Brendon turned back to his job at hand.

"So, this is your first time in the labs, right?" Brendon asked, gesturing at the glass. Beyond a tall, lean man was shackled to a chair in the middle of a white room. His head was bowed, hiding any facial features, and his white regulation clothes were nearly hanging off of him. "This is the guy that had the health department in a frenzy."

"I don't see the point in keeping him, though. We can't use him to heal us," Ryan commented, voice monotone.

"Yeah, it's kind of silly, but whatever, orders are orders, right?" Brendon replied, shooting Patrick a nervous look. It's not like he'd never questioned things, but sometimes it was safer to not think. 

"What are we doing today?" Patrick asked, crossing his arms.

"Trying to get a blood sample," Brendon said. He shuffled nervously. 

"Which explains why Ryan was chosen for this," Patrick commented, glancing at Ryan. 

Ryan had undergone so much training in the past two years that he had almost forgotten that he was ranked top of the class in drawing blood, especially from an uncooperative patient. Ryan stepped closer to the glass division and swallowed. He'd have to go inside, up close and personal with a dark sider. 

He wasn't stupid. He knew that this was a dangerous job. Light and dark energy were polar opposites and therefore able to destroy one another. If Way still had enough energy to fight back, he could easily hurt Ryan. But he couldn't kill Ryan. Not if Way was a true healer, anyway. Nature had created a few laws Ryan agreed with.

"Give me the tools," Ryan ordered, setting down his clipboard.

"I should warn you--" Brendon began nervously. He chewed on his lip. "This guy isn't the average dark sider. He's got power. If you've never been near a dark sider before it can be a little overwhelming--"

"I've been near one," Ryan interrupted, visions of Spencer flashing in his mind, both of them using their new powers before they knew what they were. Ryan probably should have died, considering some of the things they had done. But he had lived and now he had a stronger defense against dark energy than most. 

"Okay," Brendon said timidly. He took in a deep breath and moved toward the computers. "I have to scan him for any signs of pulsing--"

"Pulsing?" Ryan asked.

"Uh, yeah," Brendon said, clearing his throat. 

"It means Mr. Way is used to using his power frequently. Since he hasn't been able to use it, his body is releasing it in pulses. If you or one of us was near him at the time, it could kill us," Patrick explained. "We aren't for certain that he is a true healer, he could just be an average dark sider that has utilized his powers for healing. If so, he is definitely a danger. And, even if he is a true healer, an attack could still put one of us in a coma."

Ryan closed his eyes, trying to center himself. He didn't need to show his nerves, not to a guy he just met and someone that was technically his boss.

"Okay, we're good to go," Brendon announced. Ryan accepted the tools he would need from Patrick and walked toward the door, ignoring Brendon's hovering figure.

He could hear a series of clicks as the door unlocked and slid open. He stepped through and managed to not jump, as it nearly slammed shut behind him. The room seemed to lighten as he walked toward Way, keeping his footsteps soft. He paused before him, eyed his bare arms, trying to decide which to work on. Way's arms held sleek muscles that gave an allusion to strength. The kind of strength that could hold a man down.

Ryan gulped and knelt, setting his tools down. He picked up the tourniquet and reached for Way's arm. He slipped it around the upper arm, pulling it tight. With his eyes focused on his job, he almost didn't notice the shift in Way's body. One moment, Way had been loose, as though he was unconscious. Now he was tense and looked, if he hadn't been trapped, like he would bolt.

Slowly, Ryan looked up to see Way's face lifting. Their eyes met and all Ryan could see were pools of dark energy crackling in the air, rushing towards him. Pain encased him and, before he could even think to retaliate, he was sinking into a world of darkness.

*

Frank was used to weird shit happening. He was a dark sider with a black hole of energy within him for crying out loud. So when his energy levels spiked that evening, barely four hours after transferring most of it to Gerard, Frank shouldn't have been that surprised. But he was. It took days to build his energy back up after a transfer. 

It resulted in the computer in his room to exploding and the electricity going out in half the building.

"You're unstable," Spencer told him, arms crossed and mouth pulled into a tight line. Frank winced at his expression. Spencer was working day and night, doing the work of two healers. Frank could feel Spencer's own energy levels buckling at the pressure, so he didn't take Spencer's anger too personally. 

"I'm always unstable," he finally said.

Spencer scratched at his head and sighed. "Look, I realize you've been doing things a certain way and that Mikey has been letting you get away with it. But this has to stop. You can't just release the energy anymore like you're taking out the garbage. You're body is replacing the energy at a faster rate now. It has become used to your method and has found a way around it."

"Well, mini-doc, what do you suggest?"

"You need to bond," Spencer said softly.

Frank glared at him. "I'm not you, Smith. And I sure as hell don't have someone like Jon lying around to bond with--"

"Yes, you do," Spencer interrupted. "I think the problem is that you can't decide if it should be Mikey or Gerard."

Frank stood up, ripping off the wires Spencer had attached to his chest in order to monitor his levels. He stormed toward the door, pausing only to say, "You're a healer, not a psychiatrist. So stay the fuck out of it."

*

"Let me guess," Jon said as Spencer entered their bedroom and threw himself onto the bed next to Jon. "Frank was a piss ant during his exam today."

Spencer didn't reply. He rolled over and buried his face in Jon's neck. The tingling sensation of their connection sizzled between them and if he hadn't been so tired it would have brought a wave of arousal along with it. Breathing deeply, he took in Jon's scent.

"Spence?"

"He needs to find a grounding mate. He's such a stubborn asshole." Spencer's fingers dug into Jon's side, like it would keep him from moving barely an inch away from Spencer. "He doesn't understand how bad it can get."

"Considering the mess in his room, I'd think he'd get it."

"Jon."

"I know, I know. We're talking about the part where he loses control, the very thing every dark sider fears, the very thing you had to go through when we found you," Jon whispered against Spencer's ear. "I remember, Spencer. Don't you ever think that I could forget watching you try to destroy everyone and everything in sight. Frank can't see the connection between that and him."

"Fuck, I don't want to think about it," Spencer said. "If only Ryan had been with me. If they hadn't taken him."

"He was a light sider, he had to be trained."

"We were doing just fine before Pete Wentz showed up," Spencer said under his breath. 

"So well in fact you had more power than you knew what to do with when you did lose control," Jon pointed out. Spencer lifted up his head and scowled at Jon. "I'm just stating a fact."

For a moment, Spencer's face looked like it was about to crumble and Jon half expected tears. Then it hardened as Spencer sat up. "I can't change what I did. Do you think I want that on my conscious for all eternity, knowing I've killed people on purpose?"

"It wasn't your fault--"

"Don't pull that with me, Jon. I set out to do it. The darkness had taken over and I was ready to slaughter every single person in this compound. And why? All because someone had taken my best friend from me. A worthless excuse."

"I know how you feel," Jon said.

"Jon."

"No. I mean, the best friend part. I never told you about Brendon, did I?" Jon waited for Spencer to shake his head. "He was this spazzy kid that literally glowed sometimes. Seriously, Spence, it was obvious he was a light sider before his power manifested. He was my best friend and one day he just disappeared. His parents claimed they never had a son named Brendon. The teachers at school refused to talk about him. He was just gone."

"I'm sorry," Spencer whispered.

"He's a scientist now, actually," Jon commented softly. "Gerard brought back his name. Frank suspects that he's the one doing the experiments on Mikey, but he won't let Gerard find out. We don't want Gerard targeting anyone in particular. It's strange. Brendon isn't the type of person I could picture doing something like that."

"We all do things we don't necessarily like, if it means fitting in and surviving."

Jon looked over at Spencer, their eyes meeting. "Yeah. I suppose you're right."

*

Brendon eyed the metal bars that lined the latest cage they had placed Michael Way into. He bit his lip, watching Way pace, before turning to glance at Ray. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Order are orders," Ray shrugged. And Brendon hated that. He hated that all of them had reached a point where they followed orders without thinking about the consequences. He couldn't picture the dark siders doing that, but heaven forbid if the light siders of the world didn't follow the rules and regulations set down by the establishment. "Dude, stop thinking."

Brendon glared at Ray, though the effect is lost. Ray, with his big hair and free smile, wasn't really effected by stuff like that.

"It's just...what if we push Way into losing control," Brendon finally said, glancing over his shoulder at Bob, who was there to rush in and save the day if Way turned violent. Despite his title, Bob wasn't just muscle. Brendon could tell he was worried about the same thing. "You saw what he did to Ryan and that wasn't intentional."

"Brendon, if you want off this project just fucking say so, okay?" Ray said, raising an eyebrow. "Otherwise, get to pushing buttons."

Brendon sucked in a breath and twisted a knob. The bars began to move closer to Way. After a small pause, Brendon, pressed a small white button. Light energy--white and electrical--surged through the metal bars. Way jerked, moving to the center of the square, eyes darting around the room warily. Brendon glanced at Ray, whom had his eyes lowered. The computer beeped, alerting them that they had recorded enough information.

Wincing, Brendon reached for a lever and pushed it upward, raising the amount of light energy that was coursing through the metal. Way curled in on him self, face turning pale. Hand trembling, Brendon twisted the knob once more, shrinking the cage in size, until Way had no choice but to remain where he was. 

"Fuck," Brendon hissed, watching as Way collapsed onto the ground, energy in the form of black ink seeping from where his hands touched the ground. 

"Turn it off!" Ray yelled. "It's too much, he's in too much pain."

Brendon fumbled with the switch, but just like Ryan before, he wasn't fast enough. Way's power surged out of him, swarming around the metal bars, before pushing outward. It was like a physical force ripping the bars apart. Pieces of metal slammed into the glass barrier. Brendon ducked, hand still groping for the switch.

"God damn it!" Ray cursed, scrambling over to where he was. Ray's hand pushed his to the side, taking over the controls. The current of light energy shut off.

But it wasn't enough. Way was now attacking the glass in full force, causing cracks to appear, turning it into a spider web. Brendon looked up at the monitor, but all the camera showed was a dark shadow, Way bowed to the ground. Brendon moved to get up, but a heavy hand pushed him back down. Bob didn't bother to look over; he merely pulled open the door, slipped inside, and shut it before the darkness could sneak in.

Brendon's heart threatened to beat out of his chest as a blinding light erupted in the other room. The sound of ripping echoed in his ears, the electrical snap of two corrosive energies collapsing onto one another. Ray's arms wrapped around him, holding him down as though Ray could read Brendon's need to go and help Bob. 

There was a scream of pain and the glass finally shattered as an explosion wracked the room. Brendon ducked down just in time, barrier showering over him. When he could finally breathe, finally think, he couldn't move. He couldn't bring himself to find out what had happened.

*

 

Gerard sat in the small cafeteria of the dark sider headquarters, sipping cold coffee from a paper cup and reading the latest grayscale newspaper. The man across from him was complaining, loudly, about the latest kid they had rescued. Gerard nodded occasionally, giving off the air of someone that was actually listening.

"Gabe, shut up," Frank ordered as he bounded over, slipping into the chair next to Gerard. He immediately scooted closer, so their bodies could press alongside one another. "What'cha reading?"

"Nothing important," he admitted, setting it to the side. Gabe was watching them with interest, not even bothering to hide the fact that he was eavesdropping. "I heard you blew up your computer."

"Tiny details," Frank said, waving a hand.

"Frank..."

"I know, I know. I could have come to you, blah, blah, blah. I didn't realize I needed to transfer, okay?" Frank took a sip of his coffee. "Oh, gross."

"Get your own," Gerard said, pulling the cup away from him. It might have been cold, but it was still his. "Look, I just worry about you, okay? If only my brother had been here. They should have taken me, then he'd be able to help you--"

"Stop it," Frank growled in frustration. "I'm not going over this again, okay? Between Spencer and you, I'm starting to think I haven't been as obvious as I thought. Mikey's my best friend, Gerard." He ignored the way Gerard started to frown. "But you're...you're something more. A friend, yes, but something else that I can't exactly explain. Think about that next time you start talking about letting other people take you from me."

"Are you going to kiss him now?" Gabe asked with a slight leer. "Because the man is begging for it, Gee."

"Go find Joe or something," Gerard snapped.

"Hey, I'm just calling it like I see it," Gabe said with his hands raised.

*

Ryan stood in the small white room, staring at the dark figure laying prone on the bed before him. He rubbed his head, the ache that had appeared after he'd awakened still present, but slowly fading. Apparently, that was good enough for the higher ups, because he was already on assignment once more. "Take a few nursing classes and suddenly your everyone's favorite dark side healer."

Way's hand twitched and a soft sound of pain emitting from his throat.

"And of course you can hear me," Ryan muttered. He pulled over the chair he had been offered, opening the bag of bandages they had given to him. Way's shirt and pants had already been removed, revealing the small amount of damage that the explosion had caused. Most of it was energy based, which meant Ryan was going to have to figure out a way to fix Way's energy patterns without using his own energy. 

Thankfully, after a couple of years experimenting with Spencer, he knew how to manipulate dark energy well enough to put it to rights. Energy wanted to work right, for the most part, but sometimes it needed an extra push in the right direction.

Ryan cleaned the small cuts and the two burns he found on Way's side, bandaging them in white. Afterwards, he paused. He, technically, wasn't supposed to fix the damage Bob had done to Way's system. But Ryan knew that Way would never heal physically if they weren't fixed. Odds were there were strains of light energy corroding him as Ryan sat there pondering the problem. They were probably finding dark energy in Bob right then, as well. Bob, being a light sider, was worth the time. Ryan didn't envy Patrick at that moment. Bob didn't seem like a corporative patient.

"I have to, uh, do an energy reading on you, Way," Ryan said after a moment.

Eyes slit open and Way peered over at him, as though he were some mirage. When he spoke, his voice was rough and cracking, "Gerard? Where's...?"

"He's not here. You're still at the light sider compound, " Ryan said, forcing to not reveal any emotion. 

"Who are you?" Way asked, eyes narrowed.

"Ryan. My name's Ryan."

Way's eyes showed a spark of recognition. They darted around a moment, before landing on Ryan once more. "Spencer."

Ryan's breath picked up. "You know Spencer? Is he okay? What happened to him? Does he...does he remember me?"

A small smile appeared at the corner of Way's mouth. "He's fine."

He could be satisfied with that. Taking in a deep breath, he released it and found himself smiling back at Way. "Uh, I should get started on this. I have to warn you, the only dark sider I've ever done this for was Spencer and that was a few years ago when I hadn't any training."

"I'm a healer. I'll tell you when you're doing it wrong," Way replied. He watched Ryan a moment. "I think I can trust you."

Ryan paused, hands hovering over Way's midsection. He met Way's eyes. Slowly, he lowered his hands until they were resting against Way's bare stomach. His thumb brushed one of the bandages. They had been told, in light sider training, that to touch a dark sider was to ask for your own death. Touching Michael Way didn't feel anything like death. Ryan felt a small shiver run through him as he realized this was going to be far more intimate than he thought, more so than the light siders he had healed or Spencer.

Way's energy was leaping up toward him, trying to coax him into the stream of it. Ryan closed his eyes and allowed it to pull him into its current. Way's energy was blocked, heavily, in a number of placed. The blockades radiated with light energy and, while they were pleasant feeling to Ryan, he knew they had to be painful for Way. 

He started with the small blockages, pulling out the light energy slowly and digesting it into his body, where he could then ground it. When he got to the bigger ones, his task became more difficult. The energy broke apart, threading into Way's own energy. Ryan meticulously worked, pulling strand after strand of light energy out. Finally, it was done.

Ryan pulled back, attempting to pull out, but Way's energy caught a hold of him at the last minute. Tendrils wrapped around him, deep and dark like a black opal. It glittered in beauty and it felt like an embrace. Then, it released Ryan.

"You're good," Way said softly. He was watching Ryan with something new in his eyes, speculation and an emotion Ryan couldn't quite identify. "You're a lot like Spencer, so much potential bottled up and ready to burst. I keep trying to get him to break down his walls, but he won't."

"You're his mentor," Ryan said in sudden understanding. Light siders didn't have one on one teachers, they took classes with others.

Way nodded, smirking slightly. The smirk faded as quickly as it appeared. "Please, tell me. Has there been any attempts from my brother, Gerard, to rescue me?"

Ryan was silent for a moment, looking down at his hands, which were still resting on Way's stomach. "Yes. It's been a couple of weeks since his last attempt. He's stubborn and the way he slips in and out of here is amazing. If he could only get someone on the inside on his side, he'd have you out of here in two hours, tops."

Knowing he had said too much, Ryan began packing up his supplies. Way's hand reached out and grabbed his wrist as he stood. They looked at one another, silently speaking. Ryan smiled. "If...you want to get a message to your brother, I could try. I can't make any promises, but they're used to me venturing out into the city on my own."

"Yes, thank you."

"It's not a problem, Way."

"Call me Mikey," the other man replied, smiling that small smile yet again. Ryan had to force his eyes away from it.

*

Joe shifted from foot to foot as Gabe knocked a rhythm out on the green door before them. He glanced over his shoulder, taking in the clean street with perfect homes. There were children's toys in the yard, the fact that no one was worried about them getting stolen proof that they were close to light sider headquarters. He turned back as the door swung open, revealing a beautiful older woman who narrowed her eyes at them suspiciously.

"We're here about Victoria," Gabe said, all signs of his joking interior gone. 

The woman's eyes narrowed even further and she scanned their clothing carefully. After a moment, she looked up and met Joe's gaze. He stared back at her, letting her take whatever she wanted from his expression. She sighed. "For a moment I thought you were light siders."

"Please, no need to be rude," Gabe said, breaking into a bright grin that calmed the woman even further. Gabe had that effect on people, an ability to wrap them around his little finger. It was why he was so good at his job. Getting families to hand over their children wasn't exactly easy. "Can we see her?"

She nodded, stepping back to let them inside. Joe could feel the pressure of dark energy the moment he stepped through the doorway. He looked up at the ceiling, in the direction it was originating from. Quickly he followed Gabe up the stairs, taking them two at a time. They waited for the mother to open the bedroom door. Joe sucked in a breath at the sight within. 

Thick, inky black energy crawled its way across the walls, floor, and ceiling. It came from a dark corner of the room, where a young woman around their age, was curled up, head hidden against her knees. Gabe took a step forward and the energy pulsed out from her, a warning to stay away.

But that wasn't a problem. This was what Gabe and Joe were trained for, to subdue those that had just come into their powers and make sure no one was injured in the process. Normally, they were a perfect team and never failed. 

Joe refused to think about Spencer.

*

Spencer wasn't the type to worry about things that had happened in the past. If he did that, then he'd be a psychiatric patient or something. He knew some people would be horrified by the fact that he didn't think about the deaths he had caused, not realizing that by thinking about them he ran the risk of losing control all over again.

In the end, Spencer was the dark sider's example of why training and control was important. 

Unlike Mikey, who was a prodigy among them, Spencer wasn't a true healer. This had been proven when the destructive power of his darkness had corroded those around him, driving them insane and to the point of suicide. But Spencer had too much power--even he understood this--to be used in another area. Healing was safe and took more effort than most were able to withstand. So, Spencer was perfect for the job. But he wasn't Mikey and he was beginning to think that the others forgot that.

The dark siders and light siders were sneaky in their fighting tactics. An outsider would never realize there was an actual war happening between them. But there was and Spencer had to deal with the injured members of his party. 

"Spencer, you need to rest," Jon said.

Spencer looked away from the mirror he had been staring at, blinking as his mind fought to connect. He swallowed. "Are there any more?"

"No, that was the last of the blast victims," Jon replied, walking forward. "How do you feel?"

He wasn't normally one for metaphors and words of emotion, but he found himself saying them anyway. "Like my soul's been cut out. I'm so tired, Jon."

"If you would just--"

"Don't," he ordered, wearily. "Don't tempt me to let go. Not now, not when there's no one strong enough to stop me."

It sounded conceited, but the words were true. There wasn't anyone in the building strong enough to stop him if he truly let everything out. Not even Gerard and Frank, who are the best on their team. Looking back, Spencer knew that he hadn't used his power to its full benefit when he had lost control the last time. He had walls built up before he even realized he was creating them.

Jon pulled him into a hug, face pressing against his neck. Spencer shivered, immediately feeling his skin turn sensitive at Jon's touch.

"I just want to sleep," he whispered. "If only our stupid leaders would follow my request for a new healer to train. I know I'm not finished with my own training, but I can't do this by myself."

"I know. Come on, let's get you to bed," Jon said, gently tugging him toward the doorway.

Someday Spencer knew that Jon would get tired of taking care of him. But he was hoping that day wouldn't be for a very long time.

*

Ryan's plan had been simple. Most days he was able to sneak out of the building undetected and venture into the grayscale part of the city. He figured he could do the very same thing he always did, only this time head toward the dark sider designated area. He didn't take Brendon into account.

"I haven't been out of this place in a year, Ryan, a year!" he complained, trailing behind Ryan. "Do you want me to go insane?"

Ryan had only been able to sigh and agree to let Brendon tag along. He supposed he could wait until his next venture to speak with Mikey's brother. 

However, the more he thought about it, the more he remembered Brendon's expression when Brendon told him about the last experiment done on Mikey. Brendon had looked shaken and Ryan suspected that his faith in the organization he was a member of was failing him. Ryan bit his lip as they walked through the busy city, ignoring those around them. Brendon was peering into shop windows like he had never seen them before, even though Ryan knew that Brendon had been born in the city's northeast sector, which was barely a mile away. 

"Have you ever known a dark sider outside of the complex?" Ryan suddenly asked. He wasn't sure where he was going with this, but he figured he could wing it.

Brendon remained silent for a while. "His name was Jon. He was so awesome." Brendon stuffed his hands into his pockets and stared at the ground. "I don't think he knew he was a dark sider yet, not when I knew him. But I could tell. He had this energy about him that he always kept contained. He looked relaxed and easy going, but he was always in control. I've figured out that's a dark sider thing, trying to be in control."

"While light siders want perfection," Ryan commented.

"Yeah, perfection," Brendon mumbled.

Ryan sucked in a breath, turning the corner and heading south. "I'm going to tell you something, but you have to promise you won't say anything."

Brendon turned to him with wide eyes, looking moderately excited at the prospect of knowing a secret.

"I'm serious, Brendon. I could be killed for what I'm about to do."

"Okay," Brendon said, voice hushed. "I won't tell."

"I'm going into the dark sider domain," Ryan began, ignoring Brendon's intake of breath. "I promised Mikey--I mean, Way--that I'd tell his brother something. I...Brendon, I have to get him out of there. We're killing him. You know what we're doing to him is wrong."

Brendon looked down, shoulders hunched as he nodded. "I know."

"You're in charge of his experiments--" Ryan began.

"No, I'm not," Brendon snapped, narrowing his eyes. "Do I look like the type to want to do that to someone? Ray doesn't want it either. We both get our orders from the higher ups. If anything, you should be accusing your boss, perfect Patrick Stump, for not letting Way be healed properly."

Ryan stared at Brendon a moment, before a sudden thought hit him and he laughed in shock. "God, I'm such a fool."

"What do you mean?"

"Patrick played me. He knew I wouldn't be able to leave Mikey half-healed, not when I'm..." Ryan trailed off, shaking his head. "This is such bull shit. All of us hate what we're doing and yet instead of working together, we're doing our own little separate campaigns."

Brendon didn't say anything, he just watched Ryan carefully. 

"Come on, one step at a time," Ryan muttered. "We need to find Gerard."

"I heard he's kind of scary," Brendon commented, immediately perking up as they drew closer to the dark sider's home. The dark sider's weren't as obvious about their headquarters. If anything, it was a series of derelict looking buildings. The only sign that there was life inside were the lights in the windows. As they drew closer, Ryan could feel the thick pressure of darkness, so much heavier than light. He glanced at Brendon, hoping the other boy would be okay. "Like, seriously creepy."

"He's human like everyone else," Ryan said with an eye roll.

Brendon stared up at the largest building, frowning. "So, what, do we just knock?"

"They probably know we're here," Ryan replied, reaching out to knock lightly on the door. He could hear it echo inside. They stood there for a while, at least five minutes, before he heard a series of locks being undone on the other side of the door. It swung open to reveal a short man with tattoos, looking overly energetic. 

Brendon sucked in a breath and took a step back. Ryan grabbed him to help keep him upright. He understood where Brendon's trouble was coming from. This man pulsed with dark energy, like a siren call for more.

"We're looking for Gerard," Ryan said, keeping his voice neutral.

"What the fuck?" the guy said in confusion, before shaking his head. "Whatever, just, stay here okay? We've got a new trainee and the last thing we need is for her to be damaged by a couple of idiotic light siders. What the hell are you two doing here, anyway?"

"I need to speak with Gerard," Ryan repeated, calmly.

The man glanced at Brendon and then shrugged. The door slammed shut and, distantly, Ryan could hear the man's footsteps walk away. Brendon turned to him with a worried look, but before Ryan could say anything the door was opening again and yet another man was slipping through, shutting it behind him. Ryan recognized him immediately. He had never seen Gerard Way, of course, but there was no mistaking that this was Mikey's brother.

"Who are you?" Gerard demanded, glaring at them both. 

Ryan let Brendon hide behind him as he dug into his pocket, pulling out a slip of paper. He handed it over. "It's from Mikey."

Gerard accepted the paper with trembling fingers, staring at Ryan with a hint of disbelief. He quickly opened it, eyes scanning the page, sucking in a breath of relief as he did so. Ryan watched as his thumb caressed the paper, feeling a small pang of sympathy in what Gerard must be feeling. He remembered that feeling, that constant longing for Spencer to be back with him. He fought down the urge to ask about Spencer, to beg to be let in so he could see him. This was Gerard's moment; the only thing Ryan could give him right then.

Ryan vowed to himself to get Mikey back to his brother, not just for the expression on Gerard's face but in hope that he could make Mikey just as happy.

"He probably says he's fine in there," Ryan said softly. "I didn't read it, but he seems like the type to insist he's okay. I tried...I'm trying to keep him as healthy as possible, but..."

He glanced over at Brendon, whose body was shaking slightly. Brendon looked away, refusing to meet his eyes. 

"How much longer?" Gerard asked, raising his eyes. "Mikey's strong, but I know he's not invincible and I don't know what the fuck you sadists are doing to him. How much more can he take?"

"Not much," Ryan admitted. Brendon let out a sound, almost a sob, which was quickly muffled as Brendon turned on his heel and walked away. Ryan crossed his arms and let him leave. "His body is healing fine, but his energy levels are slowly deteriorating. It's like he's used to receiving it from another source. I'm working on opening up the conduits, so he can pull in dark energy more often on his own. But it's hard when I don't have regular access to him, unless he's badly injured."

"Fuck."

"I want to help," Ryan blurted out, wincing when Gerard narrowed his eyes. "I do. What kind of healer am I if I just sit around and let him slowly die?"

"A light side healer, I'd imagine."

"That's not fair and you know it," Ryan hissed, a rush of anger suddenly running through him. "I can't help how I was born any more than you can. I'm trying to help you, I'm trying to help Mikey--"

"You have no right to even say his name, as far as I'm concerned," Gerard interrupted.

"On the contrary, he gave me permission," Ryan replied. Gerard blinked, a look of surprise passing over his face. Ryan sighed and rubbed at his temple. "I'm telling you the truth, Gerard. You're never going to get him out of there unless you have someone on the inside to help you."

"And I suppose that person is you."

Ryan stared at him a moment, smiling sadly. "I'm all you've got."

*

Frank watched from the doorway as Gerard tossed and turned, muffled sounds of distress escaping his throat. He took a step into the room, slowly making his way toward Gerard's struggling form. Silently, he sat down on the bed and rested his hand on Gerard's back. Gerard jerked underneath his touch, before twisting around to look at him, eyes wide.

"You okay?" Frank asked, rubbing small circles into Gerard's arm with his fingertips. He could feel his energy bleed into Gerard naturally, but ignored it.

"Yeah. Nightmare," he replied, rubbing at his eyes. "What time is it?"

"Too early to be up," Frank said, grinning. "I heard you through the wall, but I should let you get back to sleep--"

"Wait," Gerard said, capturing his wrist. Gerard lowered his eyes and took a moment to compose himself. "You can stay. If you want."

Frank didn't say anything; he just climbed under the covers and curled up into Gerard's warm side. Gerard's hand landed on his hip and he stilled, waiting for Gerard to pull away. Frank released a long breath when it became apparent that Gerard wasn't moving. He pressed his nose against Gerard's shoulder. They lay there in comfortable silence, the energy that thrummed through Frank slowly seeping its way into Gerard. He could feel Gerard automatically grounding it and he suddenly realized how easy this was, how simple. 

"I want to do this forever," Frank admitted. Gerard started to roll away, but Frank caught him. "I'm serious. Gerard..."

Gerard sighed and turned onto his side so he could give Frank his full attention. "You don't want to make that decision right now. Let's just go to sleep, okay?"

"That's shit and you know it," he said, leaning in close to Gerard, their eyes locked. "You Ways and your thinking that you have control over the situation. I've already made my decision, long before I climbed into this bed."

"Frank--" Gerard began, in that voice that often infuriated him. He loved Gerard, but sometimes the man couldn't get let go of the idea that he knew best.

"Don't make me desperate, Gerard." He scooted closer and pressed their foreheads together. "Don't make me wish for something I'll never have."

"I just...with Mikey gone," Gerard sighed, "I don't know what I'm doing anymore."

"Everything's going to be fine," he said. He might be too hopeful, but Frank preferred to look at the good things in life. He'd go mad otherwise. "You have that kid's help now and--"

"Did I make the right decision, accepting help from him?"

"He's Spencer's old friend, right? He probably hasn't changed that much."

"He didn't even ask to see Spencer. I don't have the heart to tell Spencer I saw him," Gerard said softly. "He might not be the person Spencer remembers."

"You said he sounded genuinely upset over Mikey being hurt," Frank replied. "As far as I'm concerned, anyone looking after Mikey is good in my book."

Gerard nodded, smiling slightly. They looked at one another, before Gerard pressed his lips to Frank's. A soft sound escaped Frank's throat as he parted his lips, deepening the kiss. It remained soft, a first kiss played out perfectly. When they parted, Frank sucked in a breath, the fingers of one hand clutching Gerard's shirt. 

"Whatever you want," Gerard whispered, "I'll give to you."

*

Ryan watched as they pulled Mikey into yet another examination room. This time, he was strapped onto a steel medical bed. Ryan crossed his arms as Mikey looked over at them. He could feel the glasses that Gerard had given him in his lab pocket and knew that Mikey couldn't really see them, they were just blurs that brought pain. "What are we doing this time?"

Brendon looked over at him, his face paler than usual. Across the room, Ray stood with a scowl on his face. He could feel the tension in the room and it took a minute to realize why. Neither one of them were happy. Ryan swallowed and tried to not think of what this could mean, whether or not it was a good thing for Mikey.

"Pinpoint shots," Brendon finally whispered.

He felt his stomach drop and grabbed Brendon's shoulder. "Wait. Let me check him over before you start. Any residual light energy could affect your results."

He entered the exam room before either of them could tell him no. He was the healing professional present, so he knew that any decision he made would be the ruling one. But he couldn't stop the experiment, not before it began. He reached Mikey, hand stretching out to touch him. He paused, Mikey's eyes on him, and glanced over his shoulder at the glass divider. Ray was pointedly looking away, as though he knew that Ryan was about to do something that would get them all in trouble. Brendon stared at him with hopeful eyes.

Ryan pulled out the glasses and gently slipped them onto Mikey's face. "From your brother."

Mikey's mouth twisted upward, but it wasn't a real smile.

"They're...they're performing pinpoint shots on you today," Ryan told him, looking away as Mikey's eyes widened. Pinpoint shots were no different than being shot by a laser beam, only for the light siders the beam was made of the purest, most concentrated light energy available. It did the most damage and often results in more deaths than not. Ryan's jaw clenched. "I can't stop them, but I can lessen the effects."

"Won't you get in trouble?" Mikey whispered. Ryan felt a finger brush his arm and he looked down to see Mikey's strapped down hand trying to touch him. Something in Ryan's gut tightened.

"I don't think Brendon's telling anyone at the moment and Ray..." Ryan glanced over his shoulder one more time. "Ray's playing at being passive. I don't want you to get hurt, Mikey, so it wouldn't matter either way."

Mikey's lip twitched, but he simply stared up at Ryan patiently and Ryan was struck with just how amazing this man was. Here Ryan was, essentially aiding in the pain he was about to experience, and yet Mikey managed to look past it. Or at the very least, give the impression he wasn't blaming Ryan for any of it. Ryan sucked in a breath and closed his eyes, hand laying to rest on Mikey's stomach, a touch that he admittedly enjoyed much more than he should.

"Tell me if it hurts," Ryan said.

"You don't hurt me," Mikey replied softly, finger brushing the inside of Ryan's arm once more.

He lowered his head, ignoring Mikey's words in order to concentrate. He reached out, feeling the thrumming, tumbling energy of Mikey crackling under his skin as though it were waiting for some dam to break. Ryan drew light energy toward his palm, trying to be as discreet as possible. The less the others saw, the less likely they would get reprimanded for his choices. Letting it trickle slowly past his own skin, Ryan concentrated on forming a thin shield of light just underneath Mikey's skin. The darker energy pushed against it, but light was flexible and was able to withdraw and return without much effort. 

"The shield should absorb the majority of the shots," Ryan whispered, starting to pull his hand away. Mikey grabbed it before he could get far and Ryan automatically threaded his fingers through Mikey's. "Your brother doesn't exactly trust me."

"He likes people to prove themselves, once you do you'll be his favorite," Mikey replied, starting to smile.

"I have to go," Ryan said, glancing back at the others. Brendon was still watching them carefully, a frown forming on his face. He paused for a moment, squeezing Mikey's hand, before gently pulling himself free. Mikey turned away, eyes looking upwards, where a small cylinder was sticking out of the white ceiling. It didn't look like much, but that was were the beam would shoot from. Ryan shuddered and quickly left the room, eyes lowered.

*

Gerard walked through the long corridors of the main building. The lights were dimmed, shadows creeping out from the corners. He kind of liked the ambience it set off. It was fitting. A dark world for a dark people. 

He looked over his shoulder, knowing there was no one there but unable to keep himself from checking. He knew that Frank was asleep, he had left him curled up in his bed after all, but he kept expecting Frank to jump out of the nearest corner and demand to know what he was doing. Gerard's shoulders hunched inward slightly and he slid through the nearest shadow. He disappeared into it, body and skin easily masked by the darkness, as though he were literally a part of it. Unlike the others, Gerard's darkness wasn't afraid to bleed out and latch onto the shadows around him.

It made him the perfect spy. 

Frank's office wasn't locked. Inside was as pristine as ever, Frank's chaotic and energized personality never effecting his workspace. Gerard could only thank his lucky stars, for as long as he'd known Frank he could never understand how the man's mind worked. 

He headed for the long wall of file cabinets, or as Frank preferred to call them: the Files of Death Row. There was a file on every person Frank had ever encountered, both dark and light. It was because of Frank's meticulous way of keeping his information and astounding ability to get correct details of any given person that had kept him from being locked up by the higher ups when he first arrived. Just like with Spencer, they knew not to throw away something that could end up saving everyone's ass at the end of the day.

He immediately went to the cabinet marked 'R' and pulled it out, scanning the headings until he came across 'Ross, Ryan'. He paused, biting his lip, unsure if this was a good idea. He had agreed to accept the boy's help. Did he really need to know the kid's life story in order to trust him?

Curiosity got the best of him. He pulled the file out and flipped it open. 

For further information see:  
Spencer Smith  
Patrick Stump  
Brendon Urie  
Michael Way  
Pete Wentz

He glanced at the clock. He had about three hours before most of the complex was awake, at least five before Frank managed to get into the office. Giving into temptation, Gerard pulled Urie and Stump's files out of their respective locations as well. He already knew Ryan's connection with Spencer and Wentz, having heard the story of Spencer's separation from Ryan from Spencer himself. He sat down at Frank's desk and opened each file, glancing at the pictures presented.

He paused on Brendon Urie's picture. It was taken just outside of the light sider's headquarters. Urie was wearing a science coat and Gerard's mind flashed to the young boy who had been hiding behind Ryan a few days ago. Momentarily ignoring Ryan's file, Gerard began skimming Urie's. He couldn't explain why he was so interested in it, but there was something about the boy. 

"Experimental scientist?" Gerard read aloud. "Why the fuck would they have a kid like that doing something so dangerous? He's hardly older than Spencer." Gerard paused when he reached the summary of Urie's current activities. Mikey's name leaped out at him, momentarily blanking out his mind. He blinked and sucked in a shaky breath. "No."

Gerard slammed the filed closed and shoved it away. The file slid off the desk and went flying onto the gray floor. He tugged briefly at his hair, before jerking Ryan's file to him. He scanned it, but found that Ryan hadn't lied to him. He was a healer and had been placed on the team working on Mikey. 

His eyes felt drawn to Urie's file once more, jaw clenching. All the time he had snuck into the light siders' domain he had never had a target. He had gone blindly and as a result had gotten captured every single time. But Frank had known whom to target all along. He had the list at the touch of his fingertips and he never once said anything to Gerard.

Gerard fought down his anger at Frank and instead focused it on the person who deserved it, the person that was slowly yet surely trying to kill his brother. 

Mikey had once told him that he was the best big brother a person could have, a little crazy but perfect. Gerard had never really worried about living up to that title, not until now. Well, now he was going to. Now, he was going to get revenge.

*

 

The library was filled with row after row of oak shelves and old books. Brendon hardly ever entered it; he never had need for research, not since his training. But he entered today, trying to escape his own thinking, hoping to find something to read and fill his mind. He darted past the head librarian, Greta, and made for the back of the massive room. He paused at the third to the last row and stared blankly at the books.

Nearby, a face appeared from behind a table stacked high with books. "You're not going to be able to just absorb the information via eyestrain, you know."

Brendon glanced over at the older man and flushed. "I know that." He took a few steps closer. "What are you doing?"

"My job," the guy replied with a slight smirk. 

"Which would be?" Brendon asked with an eye roll. He stepped even closer, pulling out a chair and sitting next to him. The books obscured his view, so he pulled the stack off the table and placed it carefully on the floor. He spotted the tattoos covering the man's arms and tried to hide his shock. This guy didn't really look like some stuffy librarian--Greta was the only exception to the stuffy librarian rule as far as Brendon was concerned. But then, Brendon didn't think he looked like much of a scientist.

"I'm a researcher," he said. "Name's Brian."

"Brendon." He stared at Brian's computer for a moment. "What are you researching?"

"Real history, not that shit they teach you in school," Brian replied as he typed. He glanced between the computer screen and a book laying open at his elbow, mostly ignoring Brendon. 

"Like what?"

"Fuck, you ask a lot of questions."

Brendon huffed. "I was just asking. I'll leave you--"

"Nah, I was about done anyway," Brian interrupted, turning to look at him. He narrowed his eyes. "What are you doing here, kid?"

"Just thought I'd...you know...get a book," Brendon finished lamely. Brian raised an eyebrow. "On...math."

"Oh, well then, don't let me stop you," Brian replied, starting to grin. "You're looking really stressed out, by the way." Brendon glared. "Hey, I'm just pointing it out. Come on. Let me take your mind off of whatever is bothering you. Give me a topic and I'll lecture you until you fucking fall asleep. How does that sound?"

"Well, okay." Brendon shifted in his seat and thought. A cartoon he had watched as a child popped into his head, of a prince and a princess battling odds and falling in love. "Tell me about bonding."

"You sure you're old enough?"

"Fuck you--" Brendon started.

"I'm joking," Brian laughed, "Yeesh. Take a joke." He smiled over at Brendon, a friendly face that had a sense of sadness in his eyes. Brendon supposed, having lived in the light sider's home base for the years that Brian had, he had probably seen more than Brendon. If Brendon, with barely more than couple of years on his belt, was feeling worn in and about to break, he couldn't imagine what this guy was feeling. "Bonding isn't what they tell you it is, you know."

"I'm starting to think that's true for a lot of things," Brendon muttered, before turning wide eyes onto Brian.

"Yeah, I know," Brian said softly, giving him a sad smile. "Anyway, bonding. They tell you that it's supposed to be for cases where someone becomes too powerful. If someone's power is beyond their control and they bond, they will be able to share that power and need for control with their partner, making it more likely for them to utilize both. But that's not what bonding was always about. Two light siders? Two dark siders? That's not a bond. Yeah, it acts like a bond, it does what the general definition of a bond does, but it's not a real bond. A real, true bond can't exist between two people of the same energy type."

"But then why do they encourage it?" Brendon asked, frowning. "In training, they--"

"Because they want you guys to be stronger, but also easier to control," Brian said with a shrug. "It does help, I'm not saying it doesn't, but it's not a true bond. It's like...a bond's little cousin."

"Does that mean that bonds aren't real?"

"Of course not, they're real, but there hasn't been one established in about two thousand years," Brian replied.

"Why?"

"Because it can only happen between a light and dark sider."

"But light and dark energy cancels each other out, it destroys each other," Brendon protested. "I know, I've seen it happen." I've made it happen.

Brian shook his head. "No, it doesn't."

"Yes, it--"

"Brendon, every time you've seen dark and light energy destroy one another was when it was done with intention. In nature it exists and rebounds off one another. Yes, it doesn't like each other, but it occupies the same space naturally nonetheless." Brian looked at him through a careful gaze. "Before the light siders took over the government, it was common for lights and darks to bond together."

Brendon frowned and looked down at his hands, thinking. He suddenly thought of Ryan, standing in the experiment room, hovering over Michael Way like by just being there he could protect him. He thought of the way Ryan had stood in the back of the room during the entire thing, hand covering his mouth, body almost but not quite trembling. Way had immediately looked toward Ryan when it had been over, his eyes looking...Brendon had had trouble identifying the emotion before Way had passed out. Now, he thought he knew.

He looked up at Brian, who was watching him curiously. "Can two people accidentally create a bond?"

"I don't know," Brian replied. "The records on how it's done have been lost, but from what I've managed to gather? It's not about creating a bond, it's about feeling a strong desire to be one with the person, to share your soul."

"Soul? What do you mean?"

"A true bond, unlike with that between two light siders, causes the two parties to literally give each other half of their soul. It's all speculation of course, but even modern science can't deny that the soul exists."

Brendon nodded and looked over at the clock. He had a meeting in about an hour, one that he couldn't miss, though he wished desperately that he could avoid showing the latest test results to his boss. Thankfully, Ray would be there. Ray never had a problem with doing most of the reports for Brendon. Brendon, after all, was usually the one forced to push the buttons. They shared the burden together this way, knowing they were destroying instead of creating. 

Brendon shuddered, bowing his head. He couldn't think like that. He had to just do his job. That's all. Thinking...he couldn't risk thinking and questioning. He wasn't Ryan; he didn't have someone to bring out the best in him like Ryan did. He just had himself and, most days, he didn't think that was good enough.

*

Spencer allowed Jon to press him harder against the brick wall. Tongue diving into his mouth, Spencer moaned softly and parted his lips farther, fingers threading through Jon's short hair. Jon's thigh shifted between his legs, digging upward slightly and causing Spencer to rock his hips forward. He could feel a tingling sensation from where their skin touched, where energy bounced back and forth.

"Fuck, Spence," Jon groaned out, turning to suck on Spencer's neck and thrusting his hips. Spencer's eyes fluttered upward, the bright sky nearly blinding him.

This hadn't been what Spencer meant when he suggested they take a walk, but he was going to enjoy it while he could. It wasn't often he really got to indulge.

Pleasure was sparking it's way up Spencer's spine as he wrapped one of his legs around Jon's hip and met Jon's thrusts, their jeans only serving to create even more friction, rough and perfect. Spencer whined low in his throat as Jon bit down on the sensitive skin behind his ear. He tugged at Jon's hair, pulling until Jon's mouth was near his. "I want to fuck you."

"We're in public," Jon whispered, eyes dilated. His small protest didn't stop him from trying to slide his fingers underneath Spencer's jeans. "Someone could see."

"We're in an alleyway. No one would look," Spencer replied, biting down on Jon's lower lip. He slipped his tongue briefly between Jon's lips. "Please? Let me fuck you."

"But, the park--" Jon started.

"Is across the street on the other side of the alley," Spencer interrupted, sliding his hands underneath Jon's shirt. He scratched as Jon's skin lightly with his nails. "We have the dumpsters to keep people from seeing, as long as you're quiet."

"Hey," Jon said, kissing him quickly, "I'm always quiet."

Spencer gently pushed him away, before reaching for his own jeans. He unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, watching as Jon stared. He stalked forward, grabbing Jon's waist and spinning him around, causing Jon to catch himself on the wall. He reached around and undid Jon's pants, shoving them as well as his boxers down to his thighs. He gripped Jon's hip with one hand, the other pushing his own pants downward.

"Fuck," Jon breathed, back arching even though, at this point, the only place Spencer was touching him was his hip. Spencer rubbed Jon's soft skin with his thumb. Jon moaned.

He pressed in close, his hard erection pressing into the cleft of Jon's ass. Jon thrust back, turning his head to look at Spencer through heavy lidded, dark eyes. Spencer leaned in and kissed Jon's neck gently, hips rolling.

"Oh, yes, yes," Jon reached back with one hand to pull Spencer even closer, "We need, fuck, we need lube. I don't--" Jon let out a strangled sound when Spencer reached around and took hold of him. Jon nodded frantically. "Okay, okay, yeah, that'll work."

"Shut up," Spencer breathed into his ear, chuckling. He continued to thrust against him, hand moving in tune with his own hips. 

"Shit, Spencer, don't--" Jon said.

A loud explosion cut Jon off, reverberating through the alley as the sound of screams filled the air. Spencer jerked away from Jon, yanking up his pants automatically as he turned in the direction of the park. He couldn't see it from there, the sound of children screaming echoing in his ears. Jon cursed and fought with his own pants, nearly zipping himself up in the process.

"What the fuck?" Jon demanded, grabbing Spencer's arm and pulling him toward the end of the alley. Spencer rushed to keep up.

The alley opened up to an empty street. Most streets on their side of the town were empty, the residents too poor to afford a vehicle. Across the street was a sight that Spencer swore belonged in a nightmare. Twisted metal from the playground equipment had obviously flown in all directions from whatever had caused the blast. Children were crying, spots of red on their clothes indicating bleeding, and the two parents that were present were trying to calm their own kids, while the others were left alone. 

They rushed across the street, the scene looking more gruesome the closer they got. Spencer sucked in a breath as he spotted the two men across the playground, twisted expressions on their faces. Suddenly Jon shoved him out of the way and yelled, "Look out!"

There was a flash of bright light from the direction of the men, so bright Spencer's skin felt like it was momentarily on fire. Then Jon's hands had flung up and a wave of dark energy had flown out, moving like a wave as it blocked the light energy from hitting anyone. Jon's energy always moved like that, slow and sedate and yet the strongest form of defense a person could want. The light collided with the dark, sending sparks into the air, before dissipating.

"You fucking bastards," Jon immediately yelled the moment he was able to lower his arms. He rushed toward the men, face contorted into a form of rage Spencer hardly ever saw on him.

Spencer turned toward the others, the sight of blood pulling him away from Jon. Most of the kids, around five of them, had gathered together. But there was one still on the ground near the playground, with another little girl kneeling next to him. Spencer rushed over, ignoring yet another explosion of energy from across the park, where either Jon or one of the men had thrown an attack. He forced himself to remain calm. Jon was used to dealing with this, it was what he did for a living. 

He reached the boy, sliding to his knees, ignoring the way the blood on the ground immediately soaked into his pants. The little girl across from him was pale, flecks of blood and small cuts marring her skin. "Are you okay?"

She nodded, before looking down. "He won't move."

Spencer looked at the boy, carefully scanning his body. His eyes stopped when they landed at his side, opposite to Spencer. A large shard of metal, probably from the destroyed playground, was embedded into the boy's side. It looked huge compared to his small body. Spencer hoped that meant that most of it was on the outside, instead of cutting deep into the boy's vital organs. 

"Are your parents nearby?" Spencer asked. The girl nodded. "Okay. Hey, look at me, okay?" He waited until her bright green eyes were on him before he spoke again. "I need you to go get them, okay?"

"What about Nate?" she asked, voice trembling.

"I'm going to take care of him, I promise," he said. He glanced over to where Jon had been. Not spotting him, he scanned the park until he landed on the other children, and Jon. Sighing in relief, Spencer turned back to the girl. "He's going to need his mom and dad, right?"

"Y-yeah, okay," she stammered, standing.

Spencer waited until she was gone, running at full speed, before reaching out and ripping open the boy's shirt. Nate's entire left side was bleed, blood gushing out from around the metal. Spencer bit his lip and took in a sharp breath as he grasped the piece of metal, thankful the boy was unconscious. Slowly, he gently pried it out of Nate's body, before tossing it to the side and quickly pressing his hands to the wound. Blood leaked out between his fingers, but he ignored it as he pushed energy into the wound, using it to pull ragged edges of flesh together and seal it shut.

That was the easy part, of course. That didn't take care of the internal injuries and blood loss. 

He slipped his arms underneath the child's body and pulled him into his lap. He wiped at his forehead, ignoring the swipe of blood that appeared as a result. Cradling Nate's body close, he reached out, trying to sense Nate's vitals. His heart was beating sluggishly, but it was slowing down at a rate that alarmed Spencer.

Quickly, Spencer began to pour dark energy into the boy's body, trying to go slowly in case Nate's own energy type didn't work with Spencer's well. He focused on knitting damaged tissue, trying mend everything while keeping track of Nate's heartbeat at the same time. 

When Nate's heart stopped altogether, Spencer almost thought he had imagined it. "No, no, no!"

Spencer laid him down on the ground and pressed his right hand over Nate's heart. He closed his eyes and sent a shock of energy into the lifeless body. Nate's body jerked in response, but his heart refused to start. Spencer tried again. And again.

"Spencer," Jon's voice said as hands rested on his shoulders. "He's gone."

"No!" Spencer snapped, shoving Jon away. Behind Jon stood a young couple, who must have been Nate's parents. They stared at the scene in absolute horror. "I can bring him back. Just give me time."

"Spencer, you can't bring someone back from the dead," Jon insisted, trying to grab a hold of him again.

"Darkness is the symbol for death," Spencer growled, shoving Jon hard enough that Jon fell back onto the blood stained grass. "I can do it. I can fucking control it. I can bring him back. You're always telling me to let down my walls, well now I'm going to."

Jon stared at him with wide eyes, mouth dropped open as Spencer turned back to the dead body before him. No, not dead. Spencer couldn't believe that he had allowed someone to die. He had never failed to save someone's life and he wasn't about to do it now. He wasn't going to go through the pain of knowing he had killed, not again. Never again.

Trembling with an overpowering determination, he reached out and placed one palm on Nate's forehead and the other on his stomach. He threw himself into the energy slowly pouring out of Nate's body, energy that was heading in one direction only: the afterlife. Spencer didn't know if there was a Heaven and Hell, or if they were all energy that was to be reused. But he did know that he had the power to take control of that, if he so chose to. 

If he could bring death, he could bring life.

He didn't know how long he sat there, pulling energy back from the depths of darkness, pouring it back into Nate's body, mending it all together again. But it wasn't enough, not quite. So he pushed farther and father. He stretched himself so far he was afraid he would never come back again. Then something inside of him crumbled, a wall cascaded down and there was this pure, unadulterated power that he never knew existed before, that he had only thought up in his fears and daydreams. 

With this power, he could do whatever he wanted. He could destroy everything and rebuild it the way it was meant to be built. He could...

But no, he had to fix Nate. He had to correct his own mistake first. He had to ignore temptation.

Suddenly, the sound of a thump echoed in his mind. He paused, waiting, and there it was again: a heartbeat, slow, but stronger than it had been before. Sucking in a breath, he continued working, healing Nate's body until it was probably healthier than it had been before the attack. Spencer wasn't a true healer, but he was a healer in the basic sense of the word and a perfectionist. 

He kept healing. 

*

"It was scariest fucking thing I've ever seen," Jon admitted, arms resting on his knees as he stared at the floor. "He...fuck, I don't know. I love him to death, you know, but I don't know how to take this."

"Just let it settle, man," Joe offered.

"Settle?" Jon looked up at him in disbelief. He glanced at Gabe. "Are you listening to this? Settle."

"Spencer's one scary fuck, I'll give him that, but it can't be that bad," Gabe replied, shrugging as he poked around inside his carton of lo mien.

"He brought a kid back from the dead!" Jon exclaimed.

"Whoa, calm down," Joe said, raising a hand. "We get it, alright, but you've got to admit...Spencer's always been able to do some weird ass shit, okay? I mean, he could probably heal everyone in this building without breaking a sweat. Not even Mikey could do that."

"That's because Mikey understands limits. He knows when to stop," Gabe pointed out. The man fell quiet for a moment, fiddling with his chopsticks, probably thinking about Mikey. Then he turned a devilish grin on Jon. "Let Smith figure out he's being stupid, eh?"

"Am I the only one who remembers the last time someone suggested that?" Jon asked, looking at Joe pointedly.

"How was I supposed to know he was going to go berserk and kill a bunch of people?" Joe countered defensively.

"Look, we're getting past the point." Jon rubbed at his temples. "The point is that my lover has officially put a crack in those wonderful walls of his, has brought back the dead, and doesn't seem to think there is anything wrong with it. He's acting like it was just an normal Saturday. Oh, hey, of course, because he witnesses a terrorist attack on a playground filled with children everyday."

"How did that turn out, anyway?" Gabe asked.

"They got away, but I'm pretty sure they weren't part of the light side regime. They were too disorganized for one thing," Jon said. "Frank is looking into them, just to be safe."

"And the kid?"

"He's fine. Spencer not only brought him back to life, but he even healed ailments he had before the blast."

"See, it's not that bad. Got to look on the bright side," Joe said.

Jon rested his head on the table for a moment. "So, how's the girl you guys brought back? What's her name, Victoria?"

"Vicky," Gabe replied. "Don't call her Victoria, dude, she'll kick you." Gabe started to leer. "And what legs to be kicked by."

*

Frank pushed away from the computer desk, stretching his arms upwards, legs sticking straight out. His eyes felt gritty, but he was finished, finally. The printer emitted familiar sounds as sheets of paper relaying information on the latest light sider terrorists processed. Sighing, Frank cracked his neck, pausing with his head turned when he spotted one of his file cabinets' doors slightly ajar. 

Frowning, he stood and walked over, glancing at the letter embossed on the front--'U'--before drawing it open. One of the folders had been hastily shoved back inside. In fact, it wasn't even in the correct place. Frank started to pull it out when his eyes landed on the name and he knew, immediately, who had taken it out. 

"Shit, fuck," Frank hissed, trying to remember the last time he had seen Gerard. Had it been yesterday? With Spencer returning to base emitting enough energy to keep the entire city lit up, Frank had been keeping his distance from everyone else, trying to keep his absorption rate low. He hadn't spoken to Gerard since before then.

He headed for the door, feet picking up speed as he rounded the corner. He headed for Gerard's room first, but he knew before he opened the door that Gerard wasn't there. He rubbed at his face and took in a deep breath. "Come on, think. Gerard's not so stupid to go after Urie."

The upper level offices were his next stop. He received a few curious glances from the others, the nameless higher ups that generally dictated the dark sider movement. Gerard was blessed with being an elite member, having an office in the middle of the best activity, working with the top members of their institution. But if they knew that Gerard had disappeared, again, without permission he could lose that position.

Gerard's office was empty, as well. He was gone. And Frank knew exactly where he would find him, if he had the guts to chase him down. 

*

"I can do more," Ryan said, sitting on the edge of Mikey's stark white bed. Mikey turned bloodshot eyes toward him, now hidden behind glasses, but he didn't say anything. Ryan knew it was cruel to expect him to. He reached out, fingers lightly brushing Mikey's throat, where vocal chords had ripped apart due to Mikey's screaming. 

It had taken Ryan the past few days to heal him, after begging Patrick for Mikey to not be terminated. He had known he could bring Mikey back. Oh, he hadn't been dead, but he had been close enough that their bosses had figured the boy was a lost cause, no longer of use and ready to be tossed to the side. His suspicions of Patrick had been all but confirmed when he had been given permission, without Patrick looking toward the head healer for acceptance. Patrick was definitely going against the regime quietly, making the smallest of choices to help lessen its hold on the world. And if Ryan knew anything about Patrick, he knew that Pete was helping him along.

Ryan pressed his fingers lightly against Mikey's Adam's apple. Mikey reached up and took a hold of his wrist, shaking his head. "But you can't talk."

Mikey shrugged, smiling slightly.

Ryan chuckled. "I guess you don't really talk all that much, anyway."

Mikey's lips parted and a half-strangled sounded escaped his throat. He winced, jaw snapping shut. His thumb rubbed at the inside of Ryan's wrist, right over his pulse. Ryan felt a small tremor run through him at the touch and fought to hold back his reaction, unsure of what it meant or if it would be accepted. Mikey tilted his head, before letting go and slowly pushing himself into a sitting position.

"Careful," Ryan murmured. Mikey reached out, palms cupping Ryan's face. Thumb brushing just under Ryan's lower lip, Mikey watched him a moment, taking in his expression. "Mikey?"

Ryan couldn't stop staring at his mouth. The way it looked soft to the touch, the way it curved upward into the smallest of smiles--like Mikey had a secret that he wouldn't share. For all his staring, though, he didn't notice that Mikey had leaned closer until those very lips were pressed against his own. Ryan gasped, lips parting, unconsciously deepening the kiss. 

Everything suddenly stood on end. He felt like he could erupt at any moment as energy boiled to the surface. He could feel Mikey's own energy respond, but not in defense like it normally would have. Instead it almost seemed like the two were reaching out to one another, swirling around each other and fusing together. Ryan pulled back in shock, feeling the immediate tug of a connection trying to draw him closer to Mikey. The other boy blinked behind his glasses, face calm.

"What just happened?" Ryan breathed. Mikey shook his head, making it clear that he didn't know either.

Ryan felt himself being pulled forward again. Mikey kissed him, hands holding his head in place gently. He slowly reached out and placed his hands on Mikey's sides, feeling a tingling sensation shoot up his arms as he slipped his fingers underneath his regulation shirt to touch bare skin. Mikey sucked in a sharp breath through his nose and kiss suddenly turned hard and demanding. It was like Mikey was trying to devour him, tongue sliding into his mouth, and the taste of the other man over empowering his senses. Ryan's mouth opened up further as he allowed Mikey to tip his head even more to the side. He moaned, fingers curling, causing his nails to scratch at Mikey's delicate skin.

Scrambling to move, Ryan mentally cursed his legs as he tried to straddle Mikey's thighs. Hands took hold of his hips, pulling him easily into place. He carefully settled down, not wanting to put too much weight on Mikey's body. Mikey had healed, but his muscles were still tender from the abuse they had suffered. He groaned into Mikey's mouth, hands sliding up Mikey's shoulders and finally threading through his hair. 

Teeth bit down lightly on his lower lip and his hips jerked forward, causing him to pull back for air, only to dive into yet another kiss. Mikey made a soft sound at the back of his throat, which seemed to shoot straight through Ryan's already aroused body. "Fuck, Mikey."

Another sound, this one amused.

"I can't," Ryan pulled back and glared at Mikey. "I'm fully healing your throat. I have to be able to hear you."

This time Mikey didn't stop him. It didn't take long; in fact Ryan was surprised at how easily he could heal the damaged vocal chords. Mikey watched him, eyes unblinking, as he worked.

"There," Ryan said, smiling. He kissed Mikey again, soft, like Mikey would break from too much pressure. He could feel Mikey starting to grin against his mouth. "How did you know?"

"What do you mean?" Mikey asked, hands sliding up his spine, skin against skin.

"This. Me. You," Ryan replied, inwardly cursing his inability to say anything correctly. He couldn't, not with Mikey still touching him. "We're on opposite sides, Mikey."

"You don't hurt me," Mikey said, as though that explained everything. Maybe it did, but Ryan sure as hell didn't understand what it meant. 

"So you keep saying."

"No, Ryan," Mikey cupped his face once more, forcing their eyes to meet. After a moment, he released him, but continued to stare, not letting Ryan look away. "I'm a healer, Ryan." Ryan started to nod, but Mikey cut him off. "When was the last time you needed someone else to heal you?"

Ryan frowned. "I...not since I was a kid, probably eight, why?"

"True healers heal themselves for the most part," Mikey told him. "Unless the damage is too severe, which is why I haven't been able to heal myself while here. I need access to more dark energy outside of my own. But you've been able to heal me."

"I'm still not getting it."

"What I'm saying is that you healing me shouldn't be possible. That's one of the downfalls of being a true healer; we have to rely on our own power. But you can heal me. You don't hurt me when you try. I knew, the first time I felt you, I knew there was something about you, Ryan Ross."

Ryan swallowed and finally managed pull his eyes away. "I'm nothing special."

Mikey took a hold of his hand and pressed it against his own chest. "Feel that?"

Confused, Ryan focused in on where he was touching Mikey, at the way their energy seemed to pass back and forth. He dug a little deeper and was shocked to sense light energy hidden in the depths of Mikey's darkness, where light had never been before. "What--?"

"I don't know. My brother was always better at folklore and legends, but...I have you inside of me," Mikey whispered. Ryan shivered, closing his eyes, savoring Mikey's words and the feel of their bodies pressed against one another.

*

 

He had a tight hold on the boy's neck before he was even noticed. Slamming Brendon Urie backward, Gerard had to fight back the knowledge that he took pleasure in the pure fear that flashed across Urie's face as his back connected with the hard, white wall. He paused, looking around the room. He had dropped down through one of the vents, into what appeared to be a science lab. Urie had been standing in front of a microscope before Gerard had grabbed him.

"Oh god, please," Urie stammered out, before screaming out, "Help! Shit, Bob!"

Gerard grabbed his wrist, spinning him around and pressing him face first into the wall. He yanked his arm upward, ignoring Urie's gasp of pain. He leaned in close and growled, "I know what you've been doing to my brother."

"I-I," Urie stammered, body trembling. "I'm sorry, I'm really, really--"

"Shut up," Gerard hissed. He couldn't seem to control his own rage. Normally, Gerard was all words. He got angry, and then he lectured and ranted about it for hours. He had never truly felt like injuring someone before. Not until now. 

"You might want to back off," a calm voice said.

Gerard turned to see a taller man with large, bushy hair standing in the doorway. His arm was outstretched, glowing tendrils of light energy sparking between his fingers. The threat was clear. Behind him stood another man, who Gerard recognized from the last time he had escaped from the complex.

"I'm just having a conversation," Gerard replied, twisting Urie's arm a little more. Urie squeaked in pain.

"This is a bad idea, Way," the man said. "Just let him go and we'll keep you being here a secret." The blonde shot him a look, but said nothing to disprove his statement. "If you hurt him, or anyone for that matter, you'll be locked up. I don't want to have to hurt you."

"What's your name?" Gerard asked, tilting his head. "He's Brendon, I know, but who are you two?"

"Ray and Bob," the blonde replied, eyes narrowed as he blocked the way to the door.

"Right, well, Ray, I'd like to see you try to get a hold of me," Gerard said casually, taking a step back into the barely there shadows that lined the wall, leading to the shelves of chemicals. Gerard seemed to meld into the gray space, turning it darker until he was practically invisible. He pulled Urie with him, who had gone pale, sweat breaking out across his forehead from fear.

A spark of light illuminated the room, illuminating the shadow that Gerard had faded into, leaving him standing there, raising a hand to block his eyes. The light dimmed and Bob smirked at him. "Don't try your luck, Way."

Gerard clenched his jaw, eyes darting around the room in search of another exit. There was none, aside from the vent, but he knew that he'd never be able to climb back up there. Mentally cursing his own hastiness, he turned back to the others. He pulled Urie closer to himself, using the boy as a shield just in case. "I just want to see my brother. I want to save him. How hard is that to fucking understand? Or are you that cold-hearted?"

Urie let out something that sounded close to a sob, but Gerard ignored him in favor of the other two. They were the problems, the ones blocking his path.

"You light siders think you can control everything, don't you?" Gerard asked. "All you do is destroy people's lives, so you can build what? You're version of a perfect fucking world. A world like that doesn't exist and you know it, but that doesn't seem to stop you from trying, now does it? There's got to be some kind of heart left in you. You can't be that much of a puppet. So let me see my brother!"

"You have room to talk," Ray replied, sounding tired. "It was dark siders that destroyed my entire neighborhood. Dark siders that killed my parents and my girlfriend. Dark siders killed Bob's father. We're not a part of this regime because we're heartless, Gerard, we're here because your organization has left us no other place to turn." He slowly lowered his hand and glanced at Bob, a silent moment of conversation. "Now, let Urie go and we'll take you to see your brother."

"How do I know I can trust you?" Gerard said, warily. 

"You don't," Bob said with a casual shrug. He pulled a pair of handcuffs from his back pocket. "And you're not going to be too happy about it, but we have to cuff you. If someone catches you walking around in here without it, we could lose our fucking necks."

Gerard stared at the handcuffs, mind racing. He could stay where he was and continue to fight them, but he was outnumbered and, for some reason, all the rage he had been feeling was slowly dissipating. Urie hadn't talked, he just stood there trembling and crying silently. The idea that these two would really help him was just enough to make him see hope. 

He let go of Urie.

*

Spencer stared at the mirror. He had stared so long his reflection was practically a blur. He took in every detail: hair, eyes, skin, and mouth. Nothing had changed. Days later and still there was no change. He felt like it should be noticeable. He had brought someone back from the dead. He had broken the basic law of life, a law that no one talked about because it was generally known that no one would ever have enough power, enough strength to attempt necromancy. 

And yet Spencer had and he had walked away with the barest hints of draining. It had been like a walk through a park for him, far too easy.

He wondered what else he could do. He could feel the power thrumming underneath his skin and knew he had only touched the surface of what lay there. He wondered if he could destroy the world. Which was a crazy and absurd thing to think about, but Spencer hadn't exactly lived a normal life. But, even more so, he wondered if he could do it again.

He could remember the others dying, their minds twisting into something unnatural until they couldn't take it anymore. At the time, it had been what Spencer had wanted. A young boy, hating the world and everything in it. He just wanted someone to hurt as much as he had. 

Now, though. Now he kind of wanted to save it. He just wasn't sure how.

"Hey," Jon greeted, entering their bedroom, door shutting behind him. Spencer noticed that he didn't look over, could barely raise his head. 

Spencer turned back to his reflection, hand reaching out to touch it. He blinked. "Are you afraid of me?"

There was a pause until, finally, Jon said, "No."

It was a lie. Both of them knew it, but neither one had the guts to say anything.

*

"Hey, hey!" Pete called, jogging to catch up with them. Brendon shot Gerard a nervous glance, watching as Gerard's hands twisted uncomfortably at the small of his back, before turning toward Pete with a fake smile. "Wow, huh. When did he show up?"

"Not too long ago," Ray replied with a small shrug.

Pete stared a Gerard a for a second before bouncing on the balls of his feet and grinning. "Hey, Urie, have you seen Mr. Ryan Ross? I have some stupid form for him to fill out."

"Oh, uh, no," Brendon said. He knew, of course. Ryan was with Mikey. He was always with Mikey. "Maybe you should check with Patrick or something?"

"Good thinking," Pete beamed. He glanced at Gerard one last time. "Uh, don't let him get away again, okay? I don't want to have to listen to the superiors bitch." Pete shook his head. "They're so lame."

"Whatever you say, Pete," Ray said, sounding amused.

Once Pete was gone, Gerard kept looking at them all, like he was begging to ask something. Finally, Bob prodded him in the back. "Ow! Motherfucker. ...Is that guy your boss?"

"No," Bob said.

"Thank god, I was seriously worried for a minute there," Gerard muttered under his breath as Ray shoved him into the elevator.

Brendon couldn't help but think that they were a strange group of people walking down the white hall. Gerard trudged along, obviously eager at the prospect of seeing his brother but not trusting them enough to follow through. Brendon half expected someone to jump out and catch them. They could get into a lot of trouble doing this, but Brendon knew that he would have done it anyway, even if Ray and Bob had not been there to make the final decision.

The prisoner floor was just as bight as all the others. A small square window was the only thing that allowed them to inside each cell. Most were full, the captives typically laying on their beds: white on white. The entire effect was washed out, like color couldn't exist on this floor. It made Brendon uncomfortable, as most things did these days. A light charge lined each doorway, which would send a severe shock into anyone's system if they attempted to open and pass through any of the doors without authorization. That was the reason they had no need for guards, not here where the prisoners were experiments. 

On an even lower level rested the people who actually performed crimes, the dark side terrorists and light siders that decided to fight the system. Gerard was usually placed there, with Andy as his guard.

Brendon crossed his arms nervously and followed the others. He could see Gerard glancing at him out of the corner of his eyes. The man didn't seem as angry as he had before, but Brendon had the distinct feeling that if he took one step out of line Gerard would be on him and Bob and Ray wouldn't be able to stop him. Brendon hoped seeing Way would make up for something, even though he honestly felt the desire was fruitless. He had screwed up, plain and simple, by not thinking for himself. 

He looked up at the sound of a low-pitched bang. The door to Way's room had opened, to show Ryan scrambling to get off of the bed. He looked flushed and irritated.

Gerard didn't seem to notice both Ryan and Way's compromising appearances. He started to rush forward, but Bob grabbed him by the arm as they all stepped inside. The door shut behind them. "What the fuck? Let me go."

"I thought you might want use of your arms," Bob commented, releasing him and raising an eyebrow.

Gerard looked at him a moment, before turning his back to him, giving him access of his bound wrists. Bob released him just as Way had managed to stand up, staring at his brother behind his glasses as though he were a mirage. Gerard took a couple of steps forward, before grabbing his brother and pulling him into a hug. He burrowed his face into Way's neck, sucking in a deep breath and letting it out, shaky.

"Hey, Gee," Way said, mouth twitching into a pleased smile. 

Out of the corner of his eye Brendon could see Ryan covering his mouth, hiding a wide smile that radiated from his eyes.

"Are you okay?" Gerard demanded. "What am I saying, of course you're not okay."

Way blatantly looked over at Ryan, and Gerard jerked, a sign that he had noticed. "It could have been worse."

"Idiot. Always looking at the bright side of things."

"Guys? We need to keep this short. There's no telling how long Ryan's been in here," Ray said. "They might come checking any minute now."

"They're not going to let me take you home," Gerard said softly, looking up at his little brother. "But I'm going to get you out of here. I'll think of something. I'll even get the others on it, okay? Frank and Jon and Spencer--"

Ryan suddenly sucked in a sharp breath, catching everyone's attention. His large brown eyes had gone impossibly wider. Brendon watched the way Ryan's fingers twitched and fluttered as the boy searched for words.

"What?" Brendon finally asked.

"I've got a plan," Ryan said. He turned to Gerard, their eyes meeting, both large and holding more emotion than the owners were aware of. "If Spencer's...if he's the way I thought he'd turn out, then I definitely have a plan."

"What do you mean?" Gerard asked slowly.

"This is what we've been waiting for," Ryan said, turning to look at Brendon and the others. "All of us have been waiting for our chance to change things. This is it. If we can get the others on our side. Andy, Pete, Patrick..."

"Greta and Brain," Brendon added.

Ryan nodded. He looked toward the two dark siders. "You'll have to do most of the work. Spencer will have to do most of the work."

"Why are you so sure Spencer can do anything?" Way asked. His question was merely curious, like he had all faith in Ryan no matter what his reply was. It made Brendon recall Brian's words once more, about a true bond between a light and dark sider.

"You told me he was powerful, remember? I remember the expression on your face and I remember what it was like when his power manifested the first time. If my plan's going to work, we're going to have to rely on him." Ryan looked toward Gerard. "This could be it, I swear to you. My plan could work."

Gerard glanced over at the others. Brendon lowered his eyes, still uncomfortable with his position in all of this. He heard Gerard sigh. "Okay, kid, let me hear it."

*

Frank slowly uncrossed his arms, watching as Gerard carefully shut the bedroom door and silently began moving around the room, obviously thinking he was alone. Frank was frustrated and angry, but most of all he was disappointed in Gerard for leaving like he had. But he knew Gerard enough that he would try and avoid any kind of confrontation, so that left Frank no choice.

He pounced.

Gerard hit the bed with a yelp, trying to kick Frank off of him in a moment of panic. Frank, however, was fast and managed to get Gerard pinned to the bed, face pressed against the comforter. Frank sat back, resting on the curve of Gerard's lower back. "Guess what? We get to have a little discussion about being an idiot."

"Get off me," Gerard ordered, voice muffled.

He leaned down, lips brushing Gerard's ear as he said, "No."

"Frank--" Gerard started.

"I'm not done talking," Frank interrupted, nails momentarily digging into Gerard's sides. Gerard squirmed; making a low sound that could have been annoyance, or arousal. Frank was hoping it was the latter. "You ran off like a fucking idiot, Gerard. You didn't tell anyone where you were going. You just left. The only reason I know where you've been--and yes, I do know--is because you can't put files away properly to save your life. What if something had happened to you?"

Gerard turned his head, sucking in a bit of air. "Nothing bad happened. In fact...I think something good happened. I need to talk to you about it."

He rolled his eyes. "Did you listen to a word I said? I'm upset with you, Gerard Way. You're supposed to be offering sexual favors for my forgiveness."

Gerard began twisting around on the bed. Frank lifted himself up a bit, waiting until Gerard had settled on his back before he sat back down. He felt Gerard's hands slide up his hips and underneath his shirt where he felt a charge dance across his own skin as his own energy searched out Gerard's touch. He closed his eyes briefly, biting his lip, before reopening them. 

"Okay," Frank whispered. "I'm listening."

"How do you feel about bringing down the light siders headquarters and everyone inside it that isn't sympathetic to non-light siders?" Gerard asked.

"You can't be serious." Frank chuckled weakly. "Gerard, that place is massive. Just because you managed to sneak in and out of there doesn't mean the rest of us can. And what sympathizers, aside from that Ross kid? What happened, Gerard? You're not telling me everything."

Gerard broke into a wide grin. "I saw him, Frank."

"Shit, seriously?" Frank beamed. "Is he okay? He's going to be okay, right? When we get him out of there?"

"He's hiding it, the way it's effected him, but..." Gerard sighed, fingers rubbing lightly at Frank's skin. "I think I'm going to have a brother-in-law after all of this is over."

Frank raised an eyebrow.

"Ryan. They, uh. Let's just say, they weren't as subtle as they thought they were."

"Fuck, Mikey with a light sider? Is that even healthy?" Frank asked. Gerard's expression made it clear that he wasn't sure. "That's just like Mikey, isn't it? Get captured by the bad guy and get one of them to fall in love with him, probably just by laying there like a cute little war veteran."

"Actually, I think that's how it happened," Gerard replied. "It's the whole soldier and nurse thing. Except in this case, they're both nurses."

Frank shifted on top of Gerard. He started to grin. "So...plot the demise of the government or crazy sex?"

"Crazy sex, then government demise," Gerard decided, pulling Frank down for a kiss.

Frank thrust his tongue into Gerard's mouth, tugging at the buttons on his shirt. He jerked back as one of the buttons popped off, flying across the room and hitting the wall. Gerard giggled, lifting up to slid his shirt off before pulling up Frank's. He lifted his arms, ducking his head to bite down on Gerard's shoulder as his shirt was tossed to the side. He felt hands on his pants, unzipping and nudging his pants down his hips an inch. 

Gerard's mouth met his and they kissed, soft and searching. Arms wrapped around him, the heat from Gerard's body searing his skin as Gerard rolled them and pinned Frank to the bed. Frank sucked on Gerard's tongue as hands once again returned to his pants, shoving them down until he was bare from waist to thigh. Gerard thrust against him and Frank gasped, the rough denim rubbing against his sensitive skin and hard erection. He bucked as Gerard's thrust his hips once more. 

Moaning, Frank could only roll his hips upward as his pants kept him from spreading his legs enough to gain purchase on the bed with his feet. Gerard continued to rock against him, tongue delving into Frank's mouth. Frank pulled away, sucking in air. "Fuck, Gee."

On hand clawed down Gerard's back, nails digging into skin and causing Gerard groan. The intensity of his jeans rubbing, creating friction against his body was almost too much, just bordering on perfection and the smallest twinge of pain. He couldn't help but trying to get more, hands scrambling for purchase, one taking hold of the low headboard, knuckles going white as he met each of Gerard's thrusts.

"Gee, shit, I'm--" Frank gasped. Suddenly hands were taking hold of his hips, pinning them to the mattress and pushing him away from Gerard, away from the friction. Frank whined low in his throat, back arching as he tried to get some kind of relief. He had been so close. "You bastard."

Gerard was grinning at him, obviously pleased with himself. He sat back, releasing Frank, fingers trailing down soft thighs before he took hold of Frank's pants and began pulling them the rest of the way off. The moment Frank was able to, he surged up onto his knees, grabbing a hold of Gerard and pulling him into a hard kiss. He palms slid down Gerard's back and he could feel spots of skin that had risen due to his scratching.

"I'm going to get you for that," Frank whispered.

"Looking forward to it," Gerard said.

*

Patrick Stump was a hard guy to read, unless the person trying to read him was Pete. Ryan knew this, so he didn't even bother attempting to understand the expression that was on Patrick's face as Ryan hovered next to the cabinet, accepting needles and rolls of gauze from him and placing each one carefully on the shelves. Patrick kept looking at him, like he wanted to say something but wasn't sure if he should. Ryan knew the feeling.

"How's Way?" Patrick asked.

"Fine." Ryan was handed another roll of gauze as Patrick nodded casually.

He had no idea as to how he was going to approach the topic of his plan, if Patrick was even open to the idea of it. He had a feeling Patrick was, the man didn't seem like the type to purposely stand in the way of social evolution. And he was a healer; it was innate for him to want to help people. But...he was also Ryan's boss, which was a little daunting.

"You let me heal him," Ryan said, for lack of anything better. 

Patrick visibly stilled, head lowering slightly. He seemed to be waiting for Ryan to continue. Ryan sucked in a breath and decided, if any of this crazy idea was going to work, now would be when he'd find out. 

"I need to discuss something with you."

*

Jon was trembling as he stared up at the light sider's complex, the large building hovering over them like a symbol of oppression. He saw Gabe and Gerard disappear around the corner, moving into place to set off the warning blasts. He swallowed. Those blasts would be merely child's play, a sign to alert the ones on their side to evacuate the building. They'd have fifteen minutes to clear out and then...

He looked over at Spencer and Frank, who were huddled together in the darkness of the alleyway. Neither spoke. Spencer's face was pale. Slowly, Jon walked over, reaching out to touch him. Spencer jerked away. "Don't."

"Spence," Jon started.

"I can't do this," Spencer whispered, eyes wide as he shook his head almost desperately. "I can't, Jon. I'll lose control. This isn't like bringing a kid back to life or healing the injured. This is...this is destroying something. I'm not...I'm not sane enough for this. Don't make me do it, Jon."

"Shh," Jon said, grabbing him and pulling him into a hug. "You don't have to do anything. Gerard asked, remember? He didn't order. You can back out of this anytime you need to. We can do--"

"You wont be able to," Spencer said, face pressed into Jon's shoulder. "I--"

An explosion rocked the air, the sound of glass hitting the ground echoing in their ears. They couldn't see the damage, which was on the other side of the massive building, but the sounds had been vivid enough to tell them that the message had been sent loud and clear. And just as Gerard had told them, seconds within the blast someone was exiting the building. 

They watched as people ran out of the doorway, silent as they hoped the plan was working, that those were the good guys.

Jon's eyes narrowed as he spotted a small boy being dragged out by a large blonde. The boy was protesting loudly, yelling about someone being left behind. Jon recognized him immediately. "Brendon."

"You mean--?" Spencer looked over. There was a moment of silence between the two of them. "If Brendon is here, maybe Ryan..."

"Spencer?"

"I'll do it," he said softly, pulling away and turning to Frank. "We better get prepared."

"Shit, are you sure about this? I don't know..." Frank was vibrating, uncontrollable energy almost visible underneath his skin. "I could damage you, Spencer."

"We don't have time for this, Frank, fuck do it already." Spencer reached out and took hold of Frank's arm, hissing at the contact. Frank sighed, letting his head drop.

Jon could only watch as Spencer let out a grunt of pain, the energy transferring from Frank to Spencer. He couldn't begin to imagine what Spencer was feeling. He was already too strong, he already held too much power, and now he was going to hold more. Maybe Spencer was right, maybe he couldn't handle this. But it was too late.

Black lines began to appear on Spencer's skin, swirls lightly dancing up his arms and neck. His eyes opened, black pools of energy, streaked with the darkest blue and purple. Spencer blinked, the mere flutter of his eyelashes causing a spark to appear in the air. Just as Spencer's hair was beginning to streak black, Frank pulled away.

Frank slumped against the wall, eyes fluttering and lungs heaving. He slid down the wall, legs sticking out in front of him. When he spoke, his voice cracked. "Okay, that wasn't so much fun."

"You okay?" Jon asked. He felt useless. Frank gave a weak nod.

"Jon?" Spencer said, turning to look at him and that, Jon decided, was one of the creepiest things he had ever seen. The person before him looked like Spencer, sounded like him, but there was something about the way he tilted his head that indicated this was a part of Spencer that never should have been let free.

"Yeah?"

"Do me a favor," he said, reaching out to cup Jon's face. Jon felt the touch vibrate all the way through him; it burned and yet it was like the greatest aphrodisiac ever created. "If I go too insane? Kill me."

"What? No! What the fuck, Spencer," Jon demanded. "I'm not going to kill you."

"Don't be stupid," Spencer said simply. And that was just like Spencer, to take something so dire and turn it into a simple procedure waiting to be completed. Jon wanted to hit him just as much as he wanted to kiss him. Spencer turned away, though, and began walking toward the building. "Time's up."

*

"Go! Go!" Ryan yelled, shoving Andy toward the elevator. He could see Andy's surprised face and the very moment where he was about to protest before the doors slid shut, leaving Ryan alone in the prisoner's ward. He turned and rushed for Mikey's cell, fumbling with his badge along the way. He nearly dropped it as he attempted to scan it, waiting with baited breath as the door opened. "Come on, let's get out of here."

Mikey said nothing, which Ryan was pretty sure meant they were actually perfect for each other. If he had started talking, Ryan probably would have killed him from the stress alone.

"We have less that two minutes to reach the first floor and get out of here," Ryan announced as they rushed for the very elevator he had just shoved Andy through. "This was a terrible plan."

"Not so terrible," Mikey offered as they entered the elevator. "Shouldn't we have used stairs?"

"There are none." Ryan glanced at him. "You're prisoners. If there's a fire, you're not supposed to survive."

"Ah," Mikey nodded. 

The elevator opened with a cheerful sound. They exited into a hallway of complete disorder. People were rushing back and forth, trying to determine the direction the attack had come from and what measures they were supposed to be taking. Ryan watched them a second, momentarily caught off guard at how they all behaved like laboratory mice, uncertain of their direction and waiting for some kind of reward if they got the answer right. 

Shaking his head, Ryan grabbed Mikey's wrist and began pulling him through the maze like hallways of the building. He thought briefly of the front door, but decided against it. Odds were, that would be where Spencer would enter and Ryan was not prepared to be caught in some kind of crossfire, not when he had Mikey to protect.

Mikey, for his part, was following calmly. There was a tension around his eyes that indicated he was as freaked out as Ryan was about these turn of events, but he managed to keep them hidden. Having met Gerard, Ryan figured he knew why Mikey was so good at that. They turned another corner just as the screams behind them grew louder. Mikey turned, stumbling. "What--?"

He didn't want to look, but curiosity got the best of him. He had expected dark energy, something resembling the pulsing and smoking substance similar to what Mikey had attacked Bob with. This...it was dark, but it was more than that. It was the epitome of darkness. "Oh. Fuck."

He couldn't move. Just being this close to it was sending shocks of pain through Ryan's body. Within the darkness he could see the vague outline of a figure, someone that he could distantly remember if he put his name to it. 

"Hey," Mikey said, catching his attention. He ripped his eyes away from the sight of the plaster on the walls beginning to crumble, allowing Mikey to cup his face. "Focus on me and get us out of here."

"Right," he breathed. "I can do that."

He took hold of Mikey's hand and, ignoring the wave of chaos behind them, he ran.

*

He tripped, tumbling over chunks of cement that once belonged to a sidewalk. Hands took hold of his arms, tugging him upward. He looked up to see a young woman with a gentle expression helping him up. A light sider, there was no doubt. He glanced briefly at her nametag--Greta Salpepper, Head Librarian--before he looked over her shoulder to see a clump of people hiding out between the buildings. It was a small number, but more than he had suspected.

Gerard turned to look back up at the building. No longer did it shine in the sunlight. The metal that had lined the windows was now made of rust; the glass itself turned a dark, ugly brown. Cracks filled with black ooze were appearing all over the frame of the building and he expected it to fall to the ground at any moment. 

Two figures suddenly darted out of a side door, an inky black substance following them like a plague. 

Everything seemed to still. The energy surrounding the place came to a dead stop. Then, a sensation filled the air, similar to the suction of a vacuum. Gerard blinked, spotting Mikey and Ryan darting behind a large piece of cement. Then a roar filled his ears. Screaming for the others to duck, Gerard grabbed Greta and threw her to the ground, covering her with his body. 

All he could hear was the impossibly loud sound of a boom. All he could feel was pressure, crushing at his very bones. 

It lasted only a second, but it was a second Gerard never wanted to repeat. He lifted his head, slowly climbing off of Greta and giving her a hand up. She wobbled there for a moment, looking like she was going to vomit. He turned toward his brother, picking his way over as he avoided looking at the building. He could barely walk in a straight line. 

Jon dodged past him just as he reached Mikey, who was slowly getting to his feet. They watched silently as Jon ran toward the building. No one bothered to stop him. None of them would have been able to.

"Well? Did it work out the way you planned?" Gerard asked Ryan.

Ryan looked up at the building. It was still standing, if it could even be called a building anymore. It seemed to be more like a void, a space made up of nothing but energy, where nothing could exist and yet everything existed at the same time. Gerard shuddered, thinking of the corrupt light side politicians and scientists that had been left inside the building. In the slim chance that any of them had survived, well, Gerard doubted they would have the mental capability to fight the rise of someone else into power. 

"No one can ever imagine the destruction they can cause before it happens," Ryan finally said. "I didn't think...I didn't realize he would go this far."

"Spencer's too thorough to do anything less," Mikey stated.

They fell silent as Jon emerged from the building, Spencer's unconscious body in his arms. Jon's face was expressionless as he carried Spencer over. Dark liquid dripped steadily off of Spencer's skin as the black swirls decorating his skin faded, leaving a trail behind Jon. Mikey stepped forward. "Hand him over."

"He's alive," Jon said, clearly unable to think beyond that very fact: Spencer was alive, he had survived. "He's..."

"He's drained, Jon. Give him to me, let me check him over," Mikey said softly, calmly. It was the voice that made him such a good healer. Gerard felt a wave of pride and, underneath that, guilt. He would have done all of this over again, if it meant saving his brother.

*

There was no celebration. The dark siders were just as stumped as the grayscales on what had happened. However, the dark siders couldn't fight the fact that it had been one of their own that had done the damage. From what Brendon could tell, the grayscales had finally opened their eyes, shocked by the recent events into realizing that a person of one polar power could not and would not be able to rule properly. 

Brendon just hoped they knew what to do with the city, now that the light siders were knocked from their platform and the dark siders were given a freedom they had not felt in at least two thousand years.

He slowly let out a breath, scooting closer to the warmth of Bob's body as he gazed around the room. The survivors had banded together afterwards. Sometimes as he watched the dark and light siders speak with one another Brendon wanted to call Ryan and Spencer heroes, but he knew he couldn't. No one was a hero in this world. Bob's arm wrapped around his shoulders and slowly he felt his shivering stop. Three months and he still hadn't fully recovered from the effects of Spencer's attack. He was better off than most of the others, however, who hadn't had someone to block him or her from the worst of it.

Brendon couldn't bring himself to look at Bob's damaged back which, despite Mikey's efforts, had yet to be healed.

"Stop thinking," Bob murmured.

"Not much else to do around here," Frank commented from across the room. 

"Who'd ever think we'd miss the good old days," Spencer commented, voice cracking and eyes half-closed. He had only awoken a few days ago. He could barely walk. "At least we had something to do."

"Yeah, war had its advantages," Frank agreed.

"I'm ignoring this conversation," Gerard announced stubbornly. Frank smiled and leaned into his side.

Brendon looked over at Ryan and Mikey, who were huddled together in the corner. They had barely separated, neither one allowing the other to go too far. He watched them, as their fingers laced together, and couldn't help but feel a small spark of hope. He turned toward the others and asked the question that was on everyone's mind, "What do we do now?"


End file.
